


Katherine of Monmouth

by BookWorm_22



Category: 15th Century CE RPF, The Sunne in Splendour - Sharon Kay Penman, The White Queen (TV)
Genre: Alternate History, Bosworth Field does not happen, F/M, Gen, Henry VI has a niece, Richard III lives, Strong Female Characters, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 31,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22562407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookWorm_22/pseuds/BookWorm_22
Summary: King Henry V of England had an illegitimate daughter. She married Sir John Grey of Groby and had a daughter - Katherine Grey Countess of Monmouth.Raised by King Henry VI as his beloved niece and thrown into the Yorkist Court, Katherine does anything to ensure her, and her family's survival.
Relationships: Edward IV of England/Elizabeth Woodville, Henry VI of England & Original Female Character, Richard III of England/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 31





	1. 13 April 1464

13 April 1464 – Manor of Grafton, Northamptonshire

It was a quiet day at Grafton, as all days at Grafton were. I had spent the morning assisting my stepmother’s younger siblings in looking after my half-brothers and my stepmother’s youngest siblings and was heading inside to the main hall for some food when my great-aunt (who was also my stepmother’s mother – I had given up on my family tree some years ago) Jacquetta Dowager Duchess of Bedford and Baroness Rivers (whom I called Tante Jacquette due to her continental family), stopped me.

“The King has come to visit with his nobles.”

Tante Jacquette had said ‘the King’, not ‘my nephew the King’ or ‘your uncle the King’ as she did when speaking of my half-uncle, King Henry VI.

“The King my uncle or my cousin the Duke of York” I asked, suspicion coming to my face. If my uncle had visited I would surely have been told. I was only eleven years-old but from the time I was sixteen-months old until just eight months ago I had lived with my uncle the King as his beloved niece.

“King Edward” Tante Jacquette said curtly, reminding me that she was still the Dowager Duchess of Bedford and not just Baroness Rivers who was content living in the country.

“My cousin the Duke of York is here as king? We are Lancastrians, through blood and beliefs. You would abandon my uncle the King?” I had an acute temper which I was told was gotten through my grandfather, King Henry V, and being brought up by the King my uncle had given me ideas of who I was.

“Yes. Your uncle, my nephew does not look to win against the Duke of York. I have to think of my family. My husband and son have only just been pardoned for Towton, I will not endanger the rest of the family. King Edward is the only person who might gain your brothers their inheritance back, for William Hastings certainly will not. He sides with your grandmother.”

I continued to glare at Tante Jacquette, knowing full well that she was correct but not liking it at all. I was the granddaughter (albeit through his illegitimate daughter) of King Henry V of Agincourt fame; I was the beloved niece of King Henry VI; I was the Countess of Monmouth in my own right. 

“You will go into the withdrawing chamber and greet King Edward with all grace and courtesy as befits both your status’.”

I walked through the main hall under the watchful eye of Tante Jacquette and to the withdrawing chamber beyond which was regularly used as a private dining room for the Rivers-Grey family. Tante Jacquette knocked and, after the door was opened by a servant, swept in, looking very much like the Dowager Duchess of Bedford that she was. I, feeling very inadequate and childish, walked in after her.

“Your Grace, may I present my great-niece, your cousin Lady Katherine Grey Countess of Monmouth.”

I sketched the barest minimum of a curtsey that I could get away with and stared at my cousin the Duke of York and new King Edward IV of England, France and Ireland. My cousin was twenty-one, twenty-two in just two weeks time but had been crowned king in London three years previously. He was tall, athletic, blond and handsome. Even I had to admit to myself that he was more kingly than my uncle.

“My lady. Such a pleasure to see my dearest cousin again” My cousin said, lounging on Baron Rivers’ chair as if it were his, and perhaps it was by rights as he had now claimed to be king and our new lord.

“I would say the same as well, cousin, but I am disappointed to see you for I was told by my Tante Jacquette that the King was here. All I see is yourself.” Perhaps not the most advisable thing to say to the new king, especially as I was the Lancastrian king’s niece.

“I see that your penchant for stating your mind has not disappeared since I last saw you dearest cousin. I will not take offense, I know full well your affection for your uncle and his for you. You are young, your words may be forgiven.” 

My cousin waved one of the servants forward, gesturing to his goblet. The servant hurriedly refilled the goblet and offered myself one. I refused, Tante Jacquette did not like me drinking wine this early in the day.

“Edward, surely the girls age should not excuse her for her treasonous statements.”

I had been so engrossed in my cousin of York that I had failed to see the other gentlemen in the room. The speaker was none other than Richard Neville Earl of Warwick, my cousin of York’s great confidant and commander. My cousin of York went to speak but I cut him off, drawing sharp breaths from the others; including Tante Jacquette.

“Cousin Warwick, forgive me I had not noticed you there in the corner” I smiled angelically, I knew about Warwick (and indeed he was my cousin as his father, the late Richard Neville Earl of Salisbury was the son of Joan Beaufort, my great-grandfather’s half-sister) and how much he wanted to be in the centre of things. “And I take much offense at being called both girl and treasonous. I am the Countess of Monmouth in my own right and, being a loyal niece to the uncle who raised me, support my uncle as king over a cousin.”

My cousin of York started chuckling. Tante Jacquette was aghast, trying and failing to hide her worry for me over my words. I was an eleven-year-old female who had just argued with the most preeminent nobleman in the kingdom after my cousin of York.

“I do believe dearest cousin, that your ability to strip people has only improved with your age. However, Cousin Warwick is, in part, correct. Your age will only excuse your words for so long. I would be careful over what you say as you go from girl to woman. You are no longer the king’s beloved niece but simply one of the king’s cousins.”

My cousin of York had stood now, a simmering beneath the surface palpable to us all. My cousin Warwick had a thunderous expression on his face, clearly not liking the idea of being told off by his younger cousin over an eleven-year-old girl. I however, stood my ground, smiling up at my cousin of York who eventually sat heavily back down and drained his goblet of wine. Sensing something had changed, Tante Jacquette whispered something in one of the servants ears who, having heard this, nodded and left the room.

“Your Grace” Tante Jacquette cut through the tension in the room with an ease that displayed her court background, “perhaps you might wish a turn around the gardens and allow your companions some rest. Katherine, escort His Grace. Find your brothers while you are there as well.”

I curtseyed to Tante Jacquette’s will and gestured to the door. My cousin of York likewise bowed to Tante Jacquette’s instructions and, with instructions to his companions to refresh and wait for him with the horses by the gatehouse, quickly caught up with me as we crossed the main hall.

“Dearest cousin, I do not believe that Lord Warwick has been spoken to thus since my lady mother last spoke with him.” My cousin of York smiled down at me, amusement evident within his tone. 

“I am the Countess of Monmouth. I am no insignificant girl.” I retorted, scanning the grounds for my younger half-brothers. I was not close to them, having lived with my uncle the King rather than my father, stepmother and them. To them, I was the older girl who their mother hated. It was not conducive to a happy familial situation.

“No, you are not. Granddaughter and niece of Lancastrian kings, many who oppose me would be very happy to have you within their keeping. And within their family.”  
I stopped. He could not mean what I thought he did. My cousin of York was not the head of my family and so he could not marry me off to whoever he wanted. I was the ward of my uncle the King, it was to him that that pleasure would go.

“You have not been told? You are the ward of the King. I am the King, hence you are my ward. And you have too many connections to be married to just anyone.”

I was indignant. My uncle the King had never spoken of my marrying, he was too often not in the right mind to do that. And now, my cousin of York was claiming my wardship and my marriage.

“You have already traded me like I am cattle!”

“I have decided that, at the present time, you are best betrothed to someone of noble blood who will not be dangerous to my own claim.”

We had stopped now. In any case, I was unable to walk for processing this surprise. I thought about it for a few moments, discarding many of the nobles that I knew in my mind.

“You would have me marry the Duke of Gloucester.”

My cousin of York looked at me in surprise. Obviously he did not expect me to be able to decipher my future husband from that statement. I laughed.

“I am not stupid cousin. You claim to be king and yet there are others who are descended from King Edward III who may wish to contend that claim. A man of noble enough blood for my bloodline is not hard to find and yet those who are completely loyal to you and will not attempt to overthrow you are a very rare breed indeed. In my mind there are only two. Your brothers. If I were to marry the Duke of Clarence I am still too close to the throne until you have children. The Duke of Gloucester will never gain the throne so my bloodline will be negated.”

“I have not given your mind the dues it deserves. I will not make that mistake again.”

My cousin of York stared down at me, his goodwill at an end. I had pushed him too much.

“Your Grace.”

A voice broke the tension between us. It was my stepmother Lady Elizabeth Grey nee Woodville. She curtseyed low to my cousin of York but barely spared me a glance. I was used to that. Lady Elizabeth hated me for I had the title she believed her son was due, ignoring the fact that it was my mother who had the title, not my father.

“Lady Elizabeth. How lovely it is to see you again. And your boys, where are they?” My cousin of York raised Lady Elizabeth up, planting a kiss on her hand.

“They are playing. Katherine, go be useful and look after them.”

Lady Elizabeth gestured to me leave them be, as if I was nothing. I looked to my cousin of York – I might not acknowledge him as king but he was still the Duke of York (and, my mind traitorously added, he had been crowned king three years past) and Lady Elizabeth was only the widow of a knight.

“Go dearest cousin, but inform Lady Rivers that you will need to be prepared for court when I send for you.”

I nodded and made a shallow curtsey to my cousin of York, completely ignoring Lady Elizabeth, before turning sharply and running back to Grafton and Tante Jacquette. I would be going to court, to my betrothed, and I knew, looking back at my cousin of York and Lady Elizabeth, that something had changed.


	2. 1 May 1464

1 May 1464 – Manor of Grafton, Northamptonshire

It was before dawn when Tante Jacquette woke me, putting her finger over my lips and shushing me so I did not wake Martha, one of Tante Jacquette’s many daughters, who I shared a bed with. Mary and Catherine, Tante Jacquette’s youngest two daughters, were still asleep in the bed opposite mine when Tante Jacquette helped me into one of my nicer dresses and hurriedly pulled me from the bedchamber. 

“Wait here.” Tante Jacquette whispered to me when we reached the main hall. 

I nodded, I had no idea why I was up so early and in so much secrecy but Tante Jacquette was in no mood to be disobeyed. I sat down on one of the benches and chewed on a piece of bread while waiting for Tante Jacquette to return. It was only a short while later that Tante Jacquette came back into the main hall with Lady Elizabeth trailing behind, dressed in her best gown.

“Why is she here?” 

It was a lovely greeting from my beloved stepmother, especially this early in the morning.

“You need two witnesses. And no-one will dispute this if the Lancastrian Countess of Monmouth confirms it.”

Tante Jacquette brooked no arguments, simply ushering Lady Elizabeth out of the hall with a great smile on her face. I started suspecting something not quite proper was about to happen. 

Tante Jacquette and Lady Elizabeth were running ahead of me down the path towards the old chapel. I was scurrying behind them, holding the hem of my skirt up to avoid dirtying it on ground. It would not do for me to turn up to the marriage of my cousin of York and Lady Elizabeth looking bedraggled, and that was exactly what I suspected I was to be a witness to.

My cousin of York was awaiting us by the door to the chapel; a priest, choir boy, and a page with him. He strode forward as soon as he saw us, nodding at Tante Jacquette and myself but he had eyes only for Lady Elizabeth.

“Come. I only have a short time before Lord Warwick and my companions miss me.”

We entered the chapel and a strange sense came over me. Here I was witnessing the marriage of the King of England to the widow of a Lancastrian knight in an old chapel, presided over by an unknown priest with only one boy to sing, the only witnesses being myself, Tante Jacquette and a page. It was the most unusual royal wedding ever. Not helped by the fact that my cousin failed to bring a ring and seemed surprised that Lady Elizabeth had brought one. I narrowed my eyes, I was only young but I knew that my cousin was not a saint and there were rumours in my uncle’s court that he had effected marriage to a lady in order to sleep with her. I may not have like Lady Elizabeth but I wished this was a true love marriage and not one my cousin would ignore later on.

“Congratulations Your Grace, Elizabeth,” Tante Jacquette embraced Lady Elizabeth as we exited the old chapel, “here, this should be helpful.” She slipped Lady Elizabeth a key with a knowing smile.

“I was surprised that you are here.” My cousin had separated from his new wife and mother-in-law to speak to me.

“So was I, Cousin. My congratulations for your wedding.” I glanced over to see Tante Jacquette motioning me away with her head, “I believe I am wanted elsewhere.”

I went to move away but thought better. Grafton housed so many people that, for all Tante Jacquette tried, someone would spot Lady Elizabeth returning.

“The manor is a very populous place. Lady Elizabeth will be missed shortly. And if it is one of her brothers then I doubt that conversation would be very pleasant.”

I curtseyed, deeper than I had before for, unless my uncle utterly destroyed my cousin and all his supporters in the coming battle, this man would be my king. I would be under his control until my inevitable marriage to the Duke of Gloucester. My cousin knew this I think, from his knowing smile, but he also knew I would not call him ‘king’ until it was over.

By the time Tante Jacquette and I returned to the main hall, minus Lady Elizabeth who was consummating her marriage to my cousin in the hunting lodge, the rest of the household had risen.

“Where have you been?” Baron Rivers asked, rising from his seat in the middle of the dais to assist Tante Jacquette to her seat next to him. I sat myself next to Tante Jacquette (as the Countess of Monmouth I was technically the highest ranking person of the household after Tante Jacquette, beating even Baron Rivers, and so had the seat next to Tante Jacquette instead of Lady Elizabeth as the eldest daughter. Another reason she disliked me) and helped myself to some cold meats.

“Out for a walk imparting advice to Katherine. She will need it after all she will be attending court shortly.”

“Why would she need advice? She’s grown up there.” Baron Rivers did not believe Tante Jacquette’s nonchalant excuse.

“Yes, as the king’s beloved niece. Now she will be simply the king’s cousin, and a dangerous one for her blood. Her life has changed dramatically.”

I flinched. I disliked being reminded that I was no longer in such a privileged place. I supposed that would change if my betrothal to the Duke of Gloucester went ahead. I would become the king’s sister but until then, I was simply his cousin. 

“Hmm..” Baron Rivers hummed suspiciously but accepted the excuse.

“Where is Elizabeth?” Anthony Woodville, Tante Jacquette’s eldest son, asked.

“I do not know. Thomas, Richard, was your mother not with you when you awoke?” Tante Jacquette professed surprise so well.

“No Grandmother. It was Aunt Anne who woke us this morning, not Mother” Thomas, the elder of my half-brothers, replied from one of the tables below the dais. 

“I will look for her after we break our fast.” Tante Jacquette took a mouthful of bread, signalling the end of the conversation.

It was shortly before noon when Anthony stormed up to me as I was stitching under a tree, watching Mary and Catherine play with my half-brothers, grabbed my arm and dragged me off.

“Let me go.” I demanded. He did, when we were out of earshot of his youngest sisters and nephews.

“Were you part of it?”

“Part of what?”

“Part of this pretended marriage between my sister and the king.”

I was dumbstruck but, at the same time, cursing my cousin for he obviously kept Lady Elizabeth too long and Anthony caught her.

“Do you think I had much choice? Tante Jacquette woke me early this morning. I had no idea what was to happen until we were at the old chapel and my cousin was allowing me to be his witness. I do think that my cousin feels something for Lady Elizabeth but I agree, I doubt my cousin will remember it.”

Anthony looked surprised, I suppose he was expecting me to argue that it was a true marriage and he should not disparage either my cousin or Lady Elizabeth.

“We have received notice from the king that we must send men to support his battle against King Henry. He will pass through here in five days and they must be ready then. But no word of my sister was mentioned.”

“So you truly are abandoning my uncle.”

I felt the tears prickle at the corner of my eyes but tried and (in the face of Anthony’s sympathetic look) failed to hold them back. Anthony went to comfort me but I backed away and ran, crying, to the river. I had known that the Rivers would be abandoning my uncle but being told that they would be fielding troops against my uncle hit me. My uncle’s rule was over; to be truthful it had been over for many years, I had spent much of my childhood caring for my uncle when he went catatonic.   
I stayed at the river, sitting in the mud against a tree, for the rest of the day, only leaving when Martha, Mary, and Catherine came hunting for me before supper. I was quiet throughout that, my mind too taken up with the knowledge of the upcoming end to my childhood and privileged position at the king’s niece. 

I was simply one of the king’s cousins.


	3. 18 Mat 1464

18 May 1464 – on the outskirts of London, on the way to the Tower of London

“And London is just up ahead.” My cousin the King was saying, gesturing ahead of our retinue to the towering spires of the many London churches.

“I am aware Cousin, I have lived at court for many years.” I replied, smiling slightly at the sight. London truly was my favourite place.

“Sometimes I forget. After all, you have been at the Lancastrian court for so long rather than my one.”

“Edward, perhaps you should ride ahead to be seen by as many Londoners as possible without anybody to detract from you.” Lord Warwick butted in.

We had been on the road for nearly a week now and my cousin the King had spent most of that time in conversation with me, neglecting Lord Warwick almost completely. He had taken great dislike to me, not helped by my cousin informing his council that I was to marry the Duke of Gloucester when I had found out Lord Warwick wished his youngest daughter to marry him. It was not a happy trip for either of us.

“Perfect idea Cousin. Katherine, join me.”

My cousin the King urged his horse forward and galloped off towards Newgate. I smiled sweetly at Lord Warwick and rode after him. The standard bearers quickly followed, two of them flying my standard as Countess of Monmouth – three gold fleur-de-lis on a blue and black background quartered with the golden lions of England. We rushed towards Newgate, my cousin the King’s face lighting up at the sight of the masses of Londoners who were lining the streets all the way to the Tower.

The Londoners had been intrinsic in my cousin gaining the throne and their love for him showed in the party-like atmosphere we were riding through. Behind us, the rest of our retinues were entering Newgate almost unnoticed. I knew why Lord Warwick didn’t wish for me to be seen with my cousin as the Londoners also loved me. I had spent much of my childhood in London or Westminster and so the Londoners had almost watched me grow up and become the near-woman I was now. And it showed. People started to see my standard flying alongside my cousin the King’s – the Yorkist king’s standard no less – and cheering me as I rode next to my cousin.

Together, we rode through the centre of London to the acclaim of the Londoners.

By the time we got to the Tower it was late afternoon and I was looking forward to a good meal and a good bed. My cousin and I were still ahead of the rest of our retinues when we rode up to the main gate but, as we slowed, Lord Warwick came up to the other side of my cousin.

“Edward, really. It is unseemly for you to arrive before your court with this gir- with Lady Katherine next to you.”

My cousin looked like he hadn’t heard Lord Warwick. A tick started in Lord Warwick’s cheek as he grit his teeth.

“You are a conquering king returning to his family. You should not return next to the niece of your defeated adversary.”

I decided to save my cousin from having an argument with Lord Warwick who was both his cousin and his greatest supporter. I halted my horse and let myself fall back next to William Baron Hastings who smiled at me.

“Been told you are overreaching yourself Lady Katherine?”

“It is Lady Monmouth, Lord William, as I am sure you are aware. And no, I simply decided to save His Grace an argument with Cousin Warwick.” 

I said my piece and turned my head to the other side where John Neville Lord Montagu, Lord Warwick’s brother, was riding. I had found Lord Montagu was a much more congenial man than his brother.

“If you are so adamant that I return to the Court ahead of everyone in a conquering glory then, Cousin Warwick, you have my permission to return to your place in the procession.”

The thundering voice of my cousin rang out ahead of us before Lord Montagu could say anything to me. We watched as Lord Warwick’s face went white and set like stone while my cousin’s face was red and angry. I sighed, it seemed that removing myself did not end the argument. Lord Warwick wheeled his horse around and settled between myself and his brother.

“You may think yourself above us for your connection to Henry Lancaster but this is a very different court. You have made an enemy for yourself today.” Lord Warwick hissed at me.

“I believe I will survive. I have survived so far have I not, Cousin Warwick?” I smiled back at him.

Lord Warwick’s face grimaced at my emphasis on our familial connection but was unable to reply as the heralds had announced the arrival of my cousin to those waiting at the bottom of the White Tower. My cousin halted his horse and swung off, everyone in the courtyard bowing or curtseying. He strode forward and raised one lady from her curtsey.

“Lady Mother, I am glad to see you again.”

He kissed her on both cheek before letting her go and repeating this to his three sisters; Anne Duchess of Exeter, Elizabeth Duchess of Suffolk, and Margaret. Then he turned to the two young men – his brothers; George Duke of Clarence who was fourteen, and Richard Duke of Gloucester who, at eleven, just six weeks younger than myself, was my future husband. I studied him intently from my position upon my horse. He was smaller than I could imagine either of his brothers were at his age as well as being slighter than them. His hair was dark, a contrast to my cousin the King and the Duke of Clarence’s blond hair, and he favoured darker clothing that had far less decoration on them than either of his brothers. He intrigued me. I was broken from my musings by Lord Montagu offering to help me from the saddle. 

“His Grace seems to be looking for you my lady.” Lord Montagu whispered, helping me steady myself on the ground. I looked up and there was my cousin the King motioning me forward. 

“I trust you remember Lady Katherine Countess of Monmouth.”

I curtseyed to them all, conscious that they all outranked me in status.

“Of course I do Edward.” That was the Duchess of Exeter speaking, “she was always around at the Lancastrian court.”

I bit back the urge to ask the Duchess how her husband was doing. The Duke of Exeter was an ardent Lancastrian who was, even now, with my uncle the King and his wife (Tante la Reine as I called Queen Margaret. She liked me perhaps as much as my stepmother did – which is to say not at all) and son (Edward Prince of Wales, or as I knew him, my cousin the Prince, who took after his mother in disliking me). It was well known that the Exeter’s hated each other. The fact that they only had a single daughter was evidence of that.

“Lady Mother, I would ask that you take our cousin in until she marries our Lord of Gloucester.”

The Duke of Gloucester, who had not seemed to be paying much attention to the exchange, suddenly turned to look at his brother incredulously.

“Ah yes, I forgot to inform you didn’t I Richard?” It was evident that my cousin was taking great pleasure from this, “Richard meet Lady Katherine Grey Countess of Monmouth, your betrothed. Dearest cousin, my brother, your betrothed, Richard Duke of Gloucester.”

I curtseyed to the Duke, keeping my eyes to look more demure which had my cousin chuckling at my side. I was not regularly that demure. The Duke, breaking out of his shook, bowed and kissed my hand.

“Lady Monmouth, pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise my Lord Gloucester.”

We stood there stiffly, not sure what to do next. 

“Come. I am famished.” My cousin announced, making towards the steps into the White Tower.

The Duke offered me his arm and, knowing this was the correct thing to do, I accepted and together we walked into the White Tower not saying a word. It did not bode well for our future relationship.


	4. 26 May 1465

26 May 1465 – Palace of Westminster, City of Westminster

It had been a year since I had first arrived at the Yorkist court and much had changed since then. Surprisingly Edward (for I had grown close enough to him that he was no longer my cousin the King but simply Edward) had not forsaken my stepmother Lady Elizabeth but had actually announced it in front of his lords when he was at Nottingham the previous September. According to Richard (a year had made much difference in our relationship. We were no longer strangers but two young people who knew we would be bound together and pragmatic enough to know it would be best to have a good relationship unlike the one his sister Anne had with the Duke of Exeter) the gathered lords were appalled at the fact that Edward, our king, had married a widowed commoner. A commoner who was five years older than him, had two children and had been Lancastrian to boot. Lord Warwick was the most unhappy for he had been negotiating with France for Edward to marry Bona of Savoy and was humiliated by Edward’s secret marriage.

Needless to say, Lord Warwick’s hatred of me increased when he found out that I had been Edward’s witness to the marriage. Richard idolised Lord Warwick and would not brook me complaining about him so I would go to Edward instead who was well aware of Lord Warwick’s ambitions. Especially towards his two daughters’ marriages. Isabel Neville was a year older than Richard and I and she believed that year made all the difference when deigning to speak with me. Richard had reminded her that she was only the daughter of an Earl, great though Lord Warwick was, while I was a Countess in my own right (and unsaid was the fact that I would be a Royal Duchess in a few years when we had married). Anne Neville was a shy girl four years younger than us who idolised Richard who never seemed to notice her, much to her disappointment. 

Lord Warwick had been pushing Edward for marriage between Isobel and his brother, George of Clarence (a more petulant person I did not know) but Edward kept stalling. He had outright shot down Lord Warwick’s request of Anne for Richard, after all securing my bloodline was much more important that a second daughter’s marriage. It was not helped by Tante Jacquette, who had returned to court with my stepmother the Queen, arranging marriages between all her children and those of the highest nobles in the land. Lord Warwick had been heard to say more than once how the Rivers were rising.

All of that tension brought us to today – the coronation of my stepmother as Queen Elizabeth. The Warwick’s were making their disdain for the Queen known. As it was my future mother-in-law Cecily Neville Dowager Duchess of York who had refused to attend and had kept her youngest daughter Margaret with her. My Lady York hated the Queen as much as she loved me. I had wormed my way into her heart over the last year of me being in her care and she thought that my marrying Richard was a fitting end to my bloodline. My Lady York was the daughter of my great-grandfather’s half-sister and so remembered my uncle, her first cousin once removed, fondly and encouraged her eldest daughters to talk about my uncle’s court to make me happier.

The Rivers were out in force, Tante Jacquette proudly at their head, as were the Burgundians who were related to Tante Jacquette. Some muttered that the emphasis on the Queen’s continental connections was unseemly and failed to hide the lowness of her birth. My half-brothers looked good in their new clothes, standing next to Tante Jacquette and Anthony (now Lord Scales after his marriage to the Baroness) – they still hated me so some things never changed I supposed. 

On the other side of the aisle from the Rivers I was stood next to Duchess Elizabeth at the end of the row holding the members of the royal family – George was closest to the aisle followed by Richard, Duchess Anne, Duchess Elizabeth, and then myself. It was an honour, as Edward had reminded me, to be placed with the royal family – and an acknowledgement of my future marriage to Richard. And being stood with the royal family meant that I had an excellent view of the upcoming ceremony.

The trumpets blared and we all dipped into bows and curtseys – the Warwick’s barely bending while the Rivers near hit the floor. We, in the front row, made measured obeisance’s as befitted our positions, neither too low nor too high. My stepmother processed down the carpeted aisle of Westminster Abbey, resplendent in cloth-of-gold and shining with jewels.

“A little too resplendent perhaps?” Duchess Elizabeth whispered to Duchess Anne.

I thought that Duchess Elizabeth was slightly uncharitable as she, along with Duchess Anne, had donned their most resplendent jewels gained from their marriages. Even I was decked out in all my finery with a cloth-of-gold underskirt and blue gown trimmed with black ribbon. Richard had taken one look at me and asked if I was attempting to replicate my coat of arms. That had earnt him a cold stare and my moving away to speak with the Duchesses.

“She has to dazzle us with her clothing to distract us from her lack of blood.” Duchess Anne replied.

“My Lady Bedford is her mother.” I added quietly, not really knowing why I was standing up for my stepmother. Perhaps it was more standing up for my beloved Tante Jacquette, “and she was thought high enough to marry my father.”

“Your father was nothing, he only married your mother because she loved him. That does not help the new Queen’s position.” Duchess Elizabeth hissed and I fell silent in the face of her venom.

“Leave her Lizzie. Lady Rivers is much loved by her. It is only natural she would defend her.” Duchess Anne added before shushing Duchess Elizabeth as the Archbishop of Canterbury had started the ceremony. We all fell silent.

It was a long ceremony. I lost interest within a half an hour but all my practice of courtly affairs kept me smiling throughout. After a while my thoughts turned to the upcoming banquet that was being held in the main hall in celebration of my stepmother’s coronation. I would be seated at the top of the tables below the dais with the royal family, the Warwick’s and the Rivers’ – only my stepmother would be eating at the dais today to prevent anyone being distracted from her, not that anyone could be with the amount of gold she was wearing.

We processed behind my stepmother from the Abbey to the Palace – my stepmother in the front, then George Clarence escorting Duchess Anne, Richard escorting myself, and the Duke of Suffolk escorting Duchess Elizabeth. The people who had come to see us all cheered but I noticed that the cheers for my stepmother were nowhere near as loud as those that Edward always received. I bit my lip but Richard noticed and asked me what was wrong. I could not tell him exactly what made me laugh but neither did I want to lie to him.

“Simply musing Her Grace’s popularity.” I said diplomatically. 

Richard looked at me, looked at the people and let out a small smile – a sincere one and not the courtly one he usually had on his face.

“I would not muse that out loud if I were you.”

I smiled back at him and we lapsed into a comfortable silence for the rest of the procession.

I was right in that we were seated at the top of the right-hand table, along with George Clarence, Isabel and Anne Neville, and seven of the Rivers children (Eleanor, Margaret, Martha, Richard, Edward, Mary, and Catherine). It made for an uncomfortable banquet.

“There are so many of you and you look so alike, all you Rivers.” Isobel Neville commented nonchalantly, taking a mouthful of pheasant as she said that.

“You are so lucky to have your sister as queen. Do you not think she looks beautiful Izzy?” That was little Anne Neville, she was nine but her small size made her seem much younger.

“Do not say that Annie.” Isobel reprimanded, leaning in close and whispering, “Do not forget that our Lord Father does not like the Queen and so we cannot either. So no complimenting her.”

I only heard this last bit as I had always had good hearing. It was helpful in learning court gossip that I was not meant to hear.

“I am Lady Isobel Neville and that is my sister Anne, the daughters and heiresses of the Earl and Countess of Warwick.” Isobel introduced herself to the Rivers as if none had been at court the last few months, “This is George, Duke of Clarence, His Grace’s brother.” She gestured to George who was sitting the other side of her to little Anne, “And this is His Grace’s other broth-“ She went to introduce Richard but he cut her off.

“I am sure the Rivers know who we are. After all, they have been at court for many months.” Richard said in a tone that was edging on abrupt, “And they have been everywhere.”

“They might know who we are, but I certainly do not know them. There are so many of them and they all look the same it is impossible to distinguish one from another.” George Clarence said, an insolent smirk working it’s way onto his face.

“Richard, Eleanor, Martha, and Catherine are on my side; Edward, Margaret and Mary on yours.” I cut in in an attempt to diffuse the situation. It was not courtly etiquette (or at all polite) but I did not care overmuch. I knew that one of them, Eleanor most likely as she had never liked me, would tell my stepmother of my behaviour and she would call Tante Jacquette into her chambers and then summon me to reprimand me but that was a problem for another day.

“Male Rivers, Female Rivers, Female Rivers, Female Rivers, Male Rivers, Female Rivers, and Female Rivers it is then.” If I was rude, George Clarence was much worse.

Richard and I exchanged commiserating looks but kept silent for the rest of the banquet as George Clarence (and occasionally Isobel who wanted to show to George that she would follow him – Lord Warwick was still angling for their marriage) needled the Rivers throughout. I was impressed that none of the Rivers lost their tempers but that may have had something to do with Tante Jacquette keeping a close eye on our group. None of them wished to have her wrath focused on them.  
Even though it was not enjoyable, the banquet was enlightening for those who were watching. Lines had been drawn. Warwick was definitely against the Rivers, as was George Clarence. Richard was wary of them but too loyal to Edward to say anything. I just kept quiet and observed but, deep in my heart, I agreed with Richard’s stance. But it was Warwick’s enmity that scared me. I had watched him take my uncle the King down and did not want that turned onto Edward. That would have disastrous consequences for myself.


	5. 19 June 1468

19 June 1468 – Eltham Palace, Greenwich

Today was the start of the rest of my life. That was all that was going through my mind as Tante Jacquette supervised my newly appointed ladies in dressing me. I was fifteen, almost sixteen, and about to be married to Richard Duke of Gloucester and brother of King Edward the Fourth. I was glad to be marrying Richard. The four years since we had met and been betrothed had caused us to have a firm friendship and a fondness for each other. I hoped that being married would allow that fondness to turn to something stronger. Richard was good to me, I knew he would be a good and kind husband who would not curtail my information gathering for he often found the information I gathered, from my friends both in court and outside it, helpful.

It was through my contacts in the City of London and on my Monmouth lands in the Welsh Marches and West Midlands that we learnt how deep Lord Warwick’s discontent went. Edward had constantly denied him Isobel for George Clarence and the many marriages between the Rivers and the nobility had basically denied any noble man for either Isobel or Anne. We both feared that Lord Warwick and George Clarence (who had gotten more impetuous and entitled these years) would do something stupid. It was only a matter of time and the question was how much time.

“No, the gold one with the jet.” Tante Jacquette ordered, waving away the large ruby suspended from a dark blue ribbon.

“I prefer the ruby.”

Tante Jacquette turned to look at me, surprised that I had given my opinion.

“The ruby was a gift from my uncle. It goes better with my dress than the jet.”

“And that is exactly why you should not wear the ruby. The jet is a gift from the Queen.”

“And that is exactly why I am wearing the ruby. Utraque fidelis.”

Tante Jacquette looked at me in askance.

“My new motto as Duchess of Gloucester. Loyal to both. I am loyal to my uncle but I will also be loyal to my future husband. I will be wearing the ruby.”

Tante Jacquette acquiesced and allowed the woman to place the ribbon holding the ruby around my neck. It settled just below the hollow of my throat. The light hit both the ruby and the golden embroidery on my dress. I was dressed in a red gown – there was no greater sign of my Lancastrian loyalties than that gown – with a white cloth-of-gold underskirt – a nod to my upcoming Yorkist ties. The hem of my gown was densely embroidered with roses, harts, castles, fleur-de-lis, and boars (roses for England, harts for the Lancastrian cause, castles as a nod to the Gwent lordship which was the predecessor to my Monmouth lands, fleur-de-lis for France and my coat of arms, and boars for Richard’s personal symbol). Everything I wore was symbolic and I knew that everyone would know it.

“My lady, may I enter?” That was Edward, for he was escorting me to Richard as my nearest male relation.

“Can I stop the King from entering?” I called back playfully.

I could not stop him and he came in, all magnificence and bringing all eyes to him.

“You look beautiful dearest Katherine.” Edward said, planting a kiss on my cheek, “My brother will barely be able to say his vows.”

I smiled at him, reaching up and planting a kiss on his cheek in thanks.

“I hope that is not so, after all he needs to say them for us to marry.” I replied, accepting his arm in readiness for him escorting me.

Edward eyed my gown at my words and cocked an eyebrow. I simply smiled back sweetly which caused him to let out a laugh. He knew me well enough that he completely understood my message. I was a Lancastrian noblewoman and kinswoman who was becoming, and accepting that fact, a Yorkist Royal Duchess. My clothing choice helped Edward’s cause – for here was an obviously Lancastrian loyalist celebrating her marriage into the York family - and if I could become a Yorkist then anyone could.

“Utraque fidelis, Edward, utraque fidelis.”

“You are a dangerous woman dearest Katherine. I would fear for Richard if I did not know that you would never do anything to harm him.”

At a signal from Tante Jacquette, my ladies fell in behind myself and Edward while Tante Jacquette planted a kiss on my cheek and smoothed my shoulders, her fingers lingering over the red fabric. She smiled once more and left so she could get to the chapel before Edward and I. We slowly but companionably meandered our way from my old chambers to the chapel. The heralds bowed, raised their trumpets and flung open the door. 

The entire congregation rose as Edward led me down the aisle. I did not mind them for my eyes were focused entirely on the figure by the alter. Richard was in a deep blue doublet with silver embroidery, the sunlight streaming in through the stain-glass windows hitting his ducal coronet and causing light to near sparkle off him. I smiled at him and he smiled back. The Archbishop of Canterbury Thomas Bourchier gestured for Richard and I to kneel before him as he started the blessing.

The ceremony was a blur. Richard and I spent most of it staring quietly at each other, only speaking when prompted by Archbishop Bourchier who smiled kindly at us. The Archbishop had been such since 1454 and so I had known him since I had first arrived at my uncle’s court even though he had been a Yorkist since near the start of the wars and so his relationship with my uncle was fraught at times. Despite that, I found Archbishop Bourchier a kindly man who had sympathy with both my uncle and I and so I was glad that it was him officiating rather than the Archbishop of York George Neville who, as the brother of Lord Warwick, rather hated me.

“What God has bound together let no man tear asunder.” Archbishop Bourchier announced, pulling me from my thoughts. I realised with a jolt that the ceremony was over and, in the sight of God, I was now married to Richard Duke of Gloucester.

The entire chapel burst into polite applause but I could hear Lizzie, Edward’s eldest daughter who had turned two in February, cheering loudly before being shushed by Edward. Richard offered me his hand and tucked it into his elbow. Together, as man and wife, we walked from the chapel at the head of the procession. Edward, the Queen, little Lizzie, and her younger ten-month-old sister Mary, were immediately behind us as the rest of the court filed into their places. We processed slowly to the Great Hall where our wedding banquet was to be held. As it was our day, we were sat to Edward’s right where George Clarence normally sat – he was next to the Queen instead, something neither of them looked too pleased at. Before we could start eating, Edward stood.

“It is my greatest pleasure for welcome my dearest cousin the Countess of Monmouth into my close family as the wife of my beloved brother the Duke of Gloucester. May you have a long and successful marriage.”

Edward raised his goblet to us and the rest of the hall followed suit. Next to me Richard puffed up in pride a little while I simply blushed demurely, although I also wished to show my pride that was not proper behaviour for a royal duchess, and I had to maintain the image of a demure royal duchess who would not dare to think of supporting any Lancastrian – even my own uncle.

The banquet went long into the afternoon. Most of it was spent talking with Richard and Edward while picking at the rich fare before me. Even though I was hungry, I knew I would not be able to keep much food down for I was too nervous for the evening event – our bedding. Richard and Edward noticed and attempted to keep me too occupied to think of it. Needless to say it did not work.

Eventually, after the banquet and during the dancing that started in the wake of the tables being moved, Edward called Richard over to him. They exchanged a few words to which Richard nodded and made his way back to me.

“Edward is about to call for our bedding.” Richard warned me.

“Are we able to leave before he does?” I asked, eying the Archbishop out of the corner of my eye, “Surely we can escape with the Archbishop before anyone notices?”

“Unfortunately I doubt that would stand with the rest of the court. They rather enjoy the spectacle of it.”

“Because they do not have anything else to do with their time.” I held back a derisive snort, we both knew that the court was always rife with rumours and so everyone had too much to do.

“My lords and ladies. I believe that it is past time for Their Graces to retire.”

My ladies hurried over to me, chattering excitedly as Richard smiled and gave a bow over my hand. Edward and some of the other men of the court led Richard away. By the wide smiles they were talking about something rather ribald. The ladies meanwhile ushered me away to my new shared chambers and helped me remove my jewellery and heavy clothing. I was left in just my shift with my hair pinned up. They handed me a large shawl to cover myself with, at least until Richard and I were alone. 

One of the ladies opened the door and the waiting males came stampeding in, laughing and joking with each other. I pulled my shawl further around me and attempted to hide behind the ladies. This was the part of the wedding that I had been looking forward to the least. Even Richard looked uncomfortable but I supposed it was partly due to his more reserved state compared to the other gentlemen of the court.

Two of our household servants turned the bedcovers down and I shakingly walked forward, unwinding the shawl as I slipped under the covers, laying completely still as Richard did the same on the other side. Archbishop Bourchier blessed the bed with us in it and prayed for our union to be fruitful. I was barely aware of the court leaving as I was too busy trying to pretend I was not affected by the prayer for fruitfulness – I knew that the court would be splitting their attentions between the Queen’s stomach and my stomach for the foreseeable future until we had both had the heir and spare that was required for us. 

“Katherine?” Richard asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

“I apologise, I was-“ I broke up.

“No need to apologise. It has been rather overwhelming day.” Richard rolled over to look at me, propping himself up with his elbow.

“I suppose we should…” I gestured to both of us with my hand, too embarrassed to say it out loud.

Richard smiled and leant down to kiss me, pulling my hair free of its many pins.

Neither of us slept much that night, much to the amusement of Edward when we returned to court the next day for a hunt in our honour.


	6. 19 June 1469

19 June 1469 – Windsor Castle, Berkshire 

“You will be fine Katherine. This is just part of life for women. I have gone through fourteen labours and I am still here.” Tante Jacquette said encouraging as she held my hand as I went through the end stages of my first labour. I did not care for her reassuring words as they did not seem true as I went through my throngs of pain.

“Come Your Grace, you must push.” The midwife ordered and I squeezed Tante Jacquette’s hand almost to breaking point. Involuntarily I screamed as I felt a pressure in certain areas.

“That is it Katherine. Almost there.” Tante Jacquette attempted to soothe me, failing slightly as I continued to scream.

My scream was broken by another scream. I collapsed back into the bed.

“It is a boy Your Grace. A healthy baby boy.” The midwife crowed, wrapping my son up as Tante Jacquette gave me a quick clean to wipe away my sweat. Once Tante Jacquette had finished I gestured to the midwife to hand me my son. She obeyed.

I could not believe that this was my son. Mine and Richard’s – our heir. He was perfect. I gazed down at him in awe. I could not tell you what happened in the minutes after that. I did not know when the midwife retired or Tante Jacquette left to retrieve Richard. I only knew that Richard had been fetched when he sat next to me on the bed, staring down at our son.

“Happy anniversary.” I said, shifting our son to Richard. It was one year exactly since we had married and I had given Richard perhaps the best gift there was – an heir to carry on our familial lines. I had secured not only my position but also our bloodline. The bloodline of Henry V would carry on through my son.

“What should we name him?” Richard asked me.

“He is your son and heir. It is your decision.”

Richard just stared down at our son without speaking. We sat there in silence for a few minutes before our son let out a wail. The midwife hurried forward.

“Your Graces, with your permission I will take my lord to the wet-nurse.” She said, curtseying and took our son to the next chamber where the wet-nurse was waiting.

“We still have not made a decision and my brother will be most anxious to be informed.” Richard stood up and walked to the sideboard to pour us a drink.

“Richard.” I slipped down into the bedding and closed my eyes.

“Yes?” Richard turned back to me and helped me to swallow down a gulp of wine.

“Not you. Our son. That should be his name. Yes, Edward would perhaps expect us to name our first son after him but you are the father, and it is the name of your father. Furthermore, he looks just like you and your late father.”

I did not have much energy left and so near buried myself under the bedding, drifting off to Richard’s assertation that our next son would be Henry. He knew me well enough to know that I wished our son to be called ‘Henry’ but it was not politically a sound choice. I would have to wait for another son to carry the Lancastrian name on. Richard could be the Yorkist. I would have a Lancastrian son.


	7. 3 October 1470

3 October 1470 – Palace of Westminster, City of Westminster

Everything had changed in the previous fifteen and a half months. Three weeks after our Dickon (as we called our son to avoid confusion with Richard) was born, we received word that, after a failed rebellion that Edward had been called away to subdue the day Dickon was born, George Clarence had been married by Archbishop Neville to Isobel Neville in Calais. Edward had been furious but could do nothing about it. They had returned shortly after to help the rebellion which defeated Edward’s forces at Edgecote Moor. Unfortunately, Warwick had managed to capture Edward and hold him on one of his estates in the West Midlands. Richard had near called an army to release his brother but I had persuaded him that he should not field an army against his brother and cousin (not to mention that he was not yet seventeen and I had expressly forbidden it) for my information was coming in that Edward was doing all he could to frustrate Clarence and Warwick. It worked and Edward was released on 10 September 1469 and, in typical Edward fashion he reconciled with Clarence and Warwick.

It was not a comfortable Christmas. Clarence and Warwick had had Earl Rivers and John Woodville, Tante Jacquette’s husband and one of her sons, executed. Needless to say, my stepmother hated Clarence and Warwick and did not hide this. Richard’s idolising of Warwick had been shattered and he struggled to hide his consternation with Warwick and Clarence’s actions. Isobel Neville was pregnant and attempting to be superior to myself due to her status as wife to the heir (my stepmother had three daughters by now with Cecily having joined the family three months before Dickon but was still lacking a son). I had my subtle revenge by being announced as Her Grace Katherine Duchess of Gloucester and Countess of Monmouth. That beat Her Grace Isobel Duchess of Clarence. I made another enemy that day.

By March 1470, Edward had defeated Clarence and Warwick again. They quickly fled again to Calais but strong winds hindered their voyage and caused them to land in France, minus Isobel Neville’s child who had been stillborn on ship. There, they made the acquaintance of Tante la Reine and my cousin the Prince and came to an understanding. Warwick would support Tante la Reine in gaining the throne back for my uncle at the price of Anne Neville marrying my cousin the Prince. When Edward heard about this he was near apocalyptic with rage but I was more concerned with little Anne Neville. My cousin the Prince had been a cruel child and I doubted he had improved much with maturity. 

I could not concern myself with this too much for I was pregnant again and gave birth to a second son on 5 August which I called Henry for my royal uncle. While Dickon, who was nearly fourteen months when Henry was born, looked like a miniature Richard, Henry was all Lancastrian with my brown hair and brown eyes which I shared with my uncle. It was a provocative decision considering the Lancastrian threat posed by Tante la Reine and Warwick but, when Edward had thought to argue, I had simply stated ‘utraque fidelis’. He had no qualms after that which he made known to myself.

After that everything went downhill. Warwick and Clarence, along with Lancastrian exiles, landed in September and managed to overwhelm Edward’s forces. Edward and Richard, accompanied by William Hastings and Anthony (now Earl Rivers rather than Baron Scales) had fled to Burgundy where Margaret was now Duchess. I was alone in London with my two sons as a Yorkist Duchess. I had to become the Lancastrian Countess once more or I feared what would happen to myself and my sons.

A commotion outside my window caused me to break out of my melancholy thoughts. Earlier in the morning, Warwick had ridden to the Tower of London to release my uncle from his imprisonment and had spent much of the day parading him through the streets of London. Since my marriage, I had been allowed to visit my uncle if we were at Westminster or the London environs. My uncle had deteriorated during his imprisonment and barely knew what was happening. Thankfully for my sanity, he knew me and had been very pleased whenever I had taken Dickon to see him. I had been unable to introduce him to little Henry but I knew I would be able to do that soon.

“Your Grace.” One of the pages knocked on my chamber doors and let himself in. I hid how appalled I was at this breach in etiquette and rose to my full height, cradling little Henry in my arms.

“Yes?”

“The Earl of Warwick requires your presence in the Hall.”

The Earl of Warwick required my presence, not my uncle the King. If Warwick continued to rule my uncle I was dead (or should follow my stepmother into Sanctuary). I needed to stop Warwick’s ascendency.

“Of course.” I nodded my head graciously while beckoning for one of my ladies to help me into my overgown. I had anticipated this summons all day and was thus dressed in my finest gown – a reverse of my wedding gown with a red cloth-of-gold underskirt and white overgown with ermine on the collar. I had my favourite ruby necklace that my uncle had gifted me (the same one I wore for my wedding) and a broach depicting a white boar Richard had gifted me with when Dickon had been born. I would be Her Grace Katherine Duchess of Gloucester and Countess of Monmouth, the King’s beloved niece.

I bent down and perched Dickon on my hip, balancing Henry carefully in my arms. Best remind Warwick I had done my duty and provided the heir and the spare while both my sister-in-law’s (including his own daughter) had failed. As I walked down the corridors, I could not miss that all the guards were wearing Warwick’s livery of a ragged bear.

“Her Grace Katherine Duchess of Gloucester and Countess of Monmouth accompanied by Lord Richard and Lord Henry Plantagenet.” The herald announced as I walked through the doors of Westminster Hall. The courtiers stared at me with badly hidden glee for what my reception would be.

I curtseyed lowly before my uncle upon the throne, hiding my frown at Warwick standing to his right like a king himself.

“Your Grace, this is Lady Gloucester, the sister-in-law of the Duke of York.” Warwick said to my uncle who shakily stood and made his way down the dais to where I had straightened myself up, placing Dickon on the floor clutching my skirts as I did.

“Katie.” My uncle said quietly, stopping just in front of me and gripping my upper arms. The courtiers looked between myself and Warwick who was going an interesting shade of red. This was not going how he had planned.

“Uncle.” I leant forward, mindful of Henry against my chest, and pressed a kiss to my uncle’s cheek, “You look well. Dickon, why don’t you greet your Uncle the King.”

Dickon moved to my uncle’s legs and hugged them tightly. My uncle smiled and shifted his gaze to Henry.

“This is my new son, Henry. For you and Grandfather.” I carefully passed Henry over to my uncle who held him for a few seconds before passing him back. He turned and gripped my elbow, silently pulling me forward up the dais.

“Lord Warwick.” I greeted as we drew near the thrones. My uncle reseated himself and gestured for me to sit myself on the other throne – the one for the Queen. I obliged and seated myself upon the Queen’s throne, settling Henry upon my lap. My uncle leant down and picked Dickon up, putting him on his lap. Lord Warwick was furious while the courtiers were muttering.

“Thank you for assisting my uncle the King, Lord Warwick, but it seems my Lord Clarence could do with some company.”

Warwick snarled but bowed to my uncle and myself (I was a Royal Duchess while he was just an Earl) and took his place next to Clarence among the other courtiers. He did little to hide his anger towards me which just led to the assembled courtiers bursting into more muttering as I settled down, gripping my uncle’s hand as I did so. I would be the King’s niece and first lady of the court – for myself and for my children.

The herald was announcing another new arrival as I contemplated my plan. 

“The Earl of Pembroke, the Earl of Richmond, and the Dowager Countess of Richmond.”

There coming down the Hall was my cousin, Lady Margaret Beaufort, her old brother-in-law Jasper Tudor, and her son Henry Tudor. Lady Margaret rather disliked me for she thought that her son should be the closest to my uncle’s affections rather than myself. Jasper Tudor was my uncle’s half-brother through the liaison between my uncle’s mother, Katherine de Valois, and the Welshman Owen Tudor. Henry Tudor was my uncle’s nephew as his father was Jasper Tudor’s late elder brother Edmund Tudor. Lady Margaret was another of my Lancastrian cousins from the Beaufort’s (just as Warwick and my Lady of York were) for her father was the son of John of Gaunt and Katherine Swynford’s first son, making her my second cousin once removed (and second cousin of my uncle) but this did little other than to cause her to hate my closer connection with my uncle.

“Your Grace.” They made their obeisance’s to my uncle who was not paying them any attention, staring vacantly down at Dickon instead.

“Please rise my lords, my lady.” I said in my uncle’s place, watching him with concern. He should not be out in the public eye in his condition but I was unable to remove him without seeming to be controlling him.

“My Lady Gloucester. I am surprised to see a Yorkist here.” Lady Margaret said snidely.

“And why would I, the King’s niece, not be attending his first public audience as our King since he was deposed?” I asked, making myself sound genuinely puzzled.

“Because your husband is a traitor and the false king’s brother.” Lady Margaret near spat.

I smiled for I had her now.

“And yet my Lord Clarence is with us and has been key to my uncle’s return. Are you saying he should not be here? After all, my aunt the Queen has decreed that, due to his assistance and bloodline, if my cousin the Prince were to have no heirs he would follow.”

Clarence went red and glared at me. I had just called him a traitor to his brothers and he could do nothing about it. I had also just accused Lady Margaret of disagreeing with Tante la Reine.

“Your Grace. If you would permit, I would introduce my nephew to my brother the King.” Jasper Tudor interrupted before Lady Margaret was able to reply to my taunts.

“Of course my lord.” I gestured for Jasper Tudor to approach with Henry Tudor’s hand. 

Henry Tudor was some years younger than myself and this was his first time at court for he had been raised in Wales, away from anyone who might wish to use him. He had no greater claim to the throne than I did for the Beaufort’s had been debarred from the throne when my great-grandfather Henry IV had legitimised his half-siblings, while his paternal grandmother was only Queen Consort of England and not the King like my grandfather was. Edward had left him alone for he was such a nonentity that he did not much matter – I was far more dangerous.

“Brother, this is our nephew – Henry Tudor Earl of Richmond.” Jasper said to my uncle who did not seem to have heard him. They stood awkwardly on the dais for some moments.

“Uncle, your brother Pembroke is here.” I said softly, squeezing his hand. My uncle looked up slowly, blinking at Jasper. He glanced at Henry Tudor before reaching out and patting Jasper’s arm and returning to watching Dickon play with his collar.

Jasper looked at me and bowed deeply, far deeper than he needed to bow to a Duchess but rather to the depth that one would if it were to the Queen. We shared a sympathetic look before I nodded and dismissed them to return to Lady Margaret who was most displeased. Lady Margaret dragged Jasper off to the side and looked to be arguing with him. There was a woman who thought she was more important that she actually was.

“If there are no more pressing matters my lords, ladies, I believe His Grace and I will retire.” I announced, scanning the assembled courtiers once more.

Standing, I coaxed Dickon of my uncle’s lap and onto my hip before passing Henry to him and helping him stand. I led my uncle out through a side door to reduce his humiliation (the Lord knew that he had been subjected to too much of it that day already) and back to his quarters which had so recently been occupied by Edward. There, he sat and stared out of the window as he did when he was in the Tower of London. Servants entered the room. They were the same ones who had served him in the Tower. I nodded to them and took myself and my children back to my chambers. 

My uncle was King again. I remembered my wish six years previously that he would stay as king rather than Edward but that was not my wish now. Edward, for all his faults, the main one being the rise of the Rivers, was born to be king. My uncle was born to be a monk or some such. It was cruel to expect him to be a king when he was not capable of it. All I wanted for him was for him to be back in the Tower where he could live out his live peacefully and without cares. When Edward returned, and return he would, I worried what would happen to my uncle. I doubted it would be good.


	8. 10 May 1471

10 May 1471 – Havering Palace, Essex

I missed Richard. It had been eight months since I had last seen him. I had spent much of those eight months ruling England on behalf of my uncle whose condition had improved a little. He would now respond to people other than Dickon, Harry (it was too confusing thinking of all the Henry’s in my family so I had started calling my Henry that) and I. But he was still not fit to rule. I was eighteen and having to hold together a court which had fractured and was uncertain of its own existence. 

Edward, along with Richard, had landed at Ravenspur in March. There was a certain irony in Edward’s landing point. My great-grandfather Henry IV had landed there when he dethroned Richard II. Edward also claimed, like Great-Grandfather, that he was just there to reclaim his ducal title. We all knew that wasn’t the case.  
Clarence had defected, due to my Lady of York’s intervention, and had been reconciled with Edward and Richard. I did not know what Richard thought of this but I believed his thoughts were similar to mine – Clarence had betrayed them once before, what was stopping him from doing it again?

As the Yorkists marched towards London, I had removed the court to the seclusion of Havering, and all but ordered Warwick to engage with them. I wanted Warwick far away from me – and if he happened to die it was no great hardship. Warwick ended up meeting Edward, Richard, and Clarence at Barnet in April. It was a slaughter. Warwick and John Neville (whom I had an ambivalent relationship with) were killed along with a third of our men.

It did not end there. Tante la Reine, accompanied by my cousin the Prince, his new wife Anne Neville, and her mother the Dowager Countess of Warwick landed on the south coast where they were met with the news of Barnet. The Dowager Countess locked herself up in an abbey while Tante la Reine headed towards Wales where Jasper was rallying his troops.

My husband and brothers-in-law met my cousin and the Lancastrian forces at Tewkesbury on 4 May. My cousin the Prince was seventeen and this was his first time in battle. It was also his last. He died on the battlefield. The Beaufort relations were executed later once it was clear my husband and brothers-in-law had won.

My uncle and I were with the rest of the court (which had thinned dramatically once Barnet had been lost) when we were told this news. We only heard yesterday. My uncle seemed to collapse before my eyes. He might not have been particularly close to Tante la Reine or my cousin the Prince but they were his wife and son. His heir and only hope for us Lancastrians. It was over.

It was clear that everyone assembled as I took my place on the Queen’s throne next to my uncle knew the Yorkists had won. We were all wondering what would happen to us. My fear was that, as I had so clearly been loyal to my uncle over my husband (indeed I had been the ruler for the last eight months in truth), I would be imprisoned or accused of treason and forbidden from seeing my children or Richard again. I could not bear to be parted with Richard indefinitely, but I had been a disloyal wife and I feared that this would reflect badly on Richard (and indeed Edward’s generosity towards myself). All I could do was wait.

My uncle’s voice broke the silence that had filled Havering since we heard about Tewkesbury the day before.

“My lords.” He said, quietly and slowly but all heard him and gave him great attention, “I am with no family now but Katie. Lancaster should not be part of the Yorkist King’s titles. Katie will be Duchess of Lancaster.”

I blinked in shock. I had not expected this. The title of Duke of Lancaster had been held by the King since my great-grandfather Henry had become Henry IV. The income from the Duchy of Lancaster amounted to much of the Crown’s income and Edward had claimed this when he became king. I would now control a large part of the Crown’s income and, as Edward and my stepmother were rather extravagant, it would lead to them being in debt in a very short space of time.

“Uncle, I cannot accept this. I am but the child of your great father’s bastard. I have no claim to the title.” I could not take it. If I did I was signalling to everyone that I was a loyal Lancastrian rather than the dutiful Yorkist Duchess I needed to be now.

“You are the only one left.” My uncle seemed to have aged overnight and was slumping further down in his throne. “York and Lancaster are united in my great-nephews.”

I glanced down at my boys, Dickon was playing at our feet while Harry was in a basket to my left. They were both York and Lancaster. They would be raised as good Yorkists. When they took my titles, Lancaster would become York. I smiled. I may just be able to justify this as the actions of a dutiful Yorkist Duchess after all.

I knelt.

“Henry the Sixth by the Grace of God King of England and France and Lord of Ireland To all Lords Spiritual and Temporal and all other Our Subjects whatsoever and to whom these Patents shall come, Greeting. Know Ye that We of Our especial grace certain knowledge and mere motion do by these Presents advance create and prefer Our right trusty and right entirely beloved cousin Katherine Duchess of Gloucester and Countess of Monmouth to the state degree style dignity title and honour of Duchess of Lancaster And for Us Our heirs and successors do appoint give and grant unto her the said name state degree style dignity title and honour of Duchess of Lancaster and by these Presents do dignify invest and really ennoble her with such name state degree title and honour of Duchess of Lancaster and by giving into her hand a rod of gold to have and to hold the said name state degree style dignity title and honour of Duchess of Lancaster unto her and the heirs of her body lawfully begotten and to be begotten. Willing and by these Presents granting for Us Our heirs and successors that she and her heirs aforesaid and every of them successively may enjoy and use all the rights privileges pre-eminences immunities and advantages to the degree of a Duchess duly and of right belonging which Duchesses of Our Kingdoms of England and France have heretofore used and enjoyed or as they do at present use and enjoy. In Witness whereof We have caused Our Letters to be made Patent. WITNESS Ourselves at Havering on the 10th day of May in the 49th year of the reign of Henry the Sixth and the first of his readeption to royal power.” The herald read the Letters Patent which created me Her Grace Katherine Duchess of Gloucester and Lancaster and Countess of Monmouth. 

My uncle slowly stood and draped the ducal cloak over my shoulders and placed the ducal coronet on my head. I rose as the most powerful person in England after the King.

The herald passed me my Letters Patent including one that granted the Dukedom of Gloucester the subsidiary title of Earl of Cambridge (the title originally held by Edmund of Langley, Edward III’s fourth son from whom the Yorkists were descended and gained their title. It had also been held by Richard’s father and grandfather as well as Edward when he became Duke of York after his father’s death. It had been held by the Crown ever since) for Dickon, and that granted my new Duchy of Lancaster the subsidiary title of Earl of Derby (held by John of Gaunt Duke of Lancaster, my great-great-grandfather, and then Henry IV before it merged with the Crown) for Harry. 

I sat back down, careful in the knowledge of my coronet and smiled slightly. I was now the official heir to the House of Lancaster and, luckily for Edward and the Yorkists, already married to a Yorkist Prince. Perhaps with this we could have peace.


	9. 21 May 1471

21 May 1471 – Tower of London, City of London

I gazed out of the window on the third floor of the White Tower. Dickon and Harry (now Richard Earl of Cambridge and Henry Earl of Derby) were with their nurses next door and I relished the silence. It would not last long I knew. 

After my ennoblement, I had dissolved the court and taken myself, my uncle and some of his servants back to London, to the Tower of London to await our fate. I would not have my uncle or I carted to the Tower in disgrace. Better to enter it as King Henry and his beloved niece than as two traitors. Part of me did not want to put Richard through that – watching his wife enter the Tower as a traitor (or at the very least as a traitor’s niece and woman with suspect loyalties). My uncle was back in his old rooms in the Wakefield Tower, probably praying as he was wont to do with his time. Edward, Richard, and Clarence were due to enter London today, with their captives of Tante la Reine and little Anne Neville who was now Dowager Princess of Wales and the daughter and widow of traitors.

“Your Grace.” One of my ladies interrupted my thoughts. I turned to her. “The King and my Lord Gloucester are nearly here.” 

I nodded and headed to the door. Ordering the nurses to take Dickon and Harry down to the Great Hall I exited the White Tower and made my way to the Wakefield Tower. There, my uncle’s servants opened the door and let me in. He was indeed praying.

“Uncle?” I said quietly, not wishing to pull him from his prayers for I believed he would need them now more than ever.

“Katie.” He turned and smiled at me. I gestured for one of his servants to finish dressing him.

“Cousin York and my husband Gloucester are without.” I stated, watching the servant manoeuvre his arm into the sleeve. Although my uncle was able to interact with more people, he was still not aware enough to dress himself.

My uncle allowed me to take his arm and, in a small procession of us and a few servants and guards, lead him to the Great Hall where Dickon and Harry were waiting. It was a dismal sight. There were no crowds of courtiers, just us and the oppressive walls surrounding us. We waited in silence.

It was not long before we heard the horses that signalled Edward and Richard’s entrance to the Tower. I braced myself, gripping my uncle’s hand tightly and repositioning Harry on my lap. Dickon was on my uncle’s lap as was usual. The doors to the hall flew open and, standing there, were Edward, Richard, and Clarence. I resisted the urge to get up and throw myself into Richard’s arms and plead forgiveness. I was the Duchess of Gloucester and Lancaster and Countess of Monmouth. I had done what was necessary for the survival of myself and my children.

Edward stormed down the Hall towards us. When he got to half-way, I stood and nudged Dickon into running to Richard. He flung himself at Richard’s legs and clung tightly.

“Papa!” He cried. “Mama, it Papa.”

I smiled. 

“Papa, you see Harry?” Dickon asked.

“Harry?” Richard answered, picking him up and holding him close. The separation was not just hard on Dickon it seemed.

“Your Graces.” I curtseyed to Edward and Richard, snubbing Clarence who I now detested for being a coward and turncloak. “I am glad to see you both well.”

“You seem rather well yourself Lady Monmouth.” That was Edward. He had never called me Lady Monmouth and I knew instantly that he was incredibly angry with myself.

“Indeed I am Brother. My uncle has been kind enough to host my children and I at his court these last months.”

“Host you.” Clarence broke in, snorting with contempt, “As if you were not the one hosting.”

“I was the highest-ranking woman and his closest relation. Of course it fell to me to host. Although, my Lord Clarence, it almost seems as if you were dissatisfied with my hosting. You were absent from court for a few months.” I was not being kind to Clarence after all he had done. “Anyway, it is not as if my uncle was capable of it. Or would you have preferred your father-in-law to continue directing my uncle?”

“I had thought it odd that Warwick was leading the forces at Barnet rather than being the puppet master here.” Richard remarked, cocking an eyebrow in my direction.

“Warwick has not been the puppet master since my uncle was officially reinstated. It was a simple task to order him on a futile mission to defeat you. With the added benefit of getting him out of my hair.”

Some of the ire on Edward’s face was draining away.

“You will be pleased to hear that you have kept your original titles and have not been condemned as traitors under my uncle.” I added.

“How did you manage that?” Richard asked, slightly in shock. I snorted delicately and waved a hand in my uncle’s direction. He was still sitting on the throne staring into nothingness.

“It was not exactly that difficult. I just had to order it. My uncle is in no fit state to do anything.”

Harry let out a short cry after I said that, prompting Richard to look at him in shock.

“This- this is…” He trailed off.

“Our Henry, of course we call him Harry to reduce confusion with my uncle.” I stepped forward, ignoring Edward’s hand twitching towards his sword, and passed Harry to Richard. “Harry, this is your Papa.”

“He is so big.” Richard said in amazement for he had not seen Harry since he was a month old. He was now almost ten months old and had grown enormously in that time. Dickon was nearly two.

“That is what happens to children. I must ask, what took you so long? Tante la Reine landed and could have come here. And if that happened, I would have been in no place to help you.” I admonished, turning to Edward in askance.

“It takes a while to organise an invasion.” Edward said, distracted by the turn of events.

“Evidently. Now, if I may, I will take my uncle back to his chambers. Dickon, you stay and be good for your Papa, yes?”

I turned on my heel and started walking towards my uncle.

“You would turn your back on your own uncle?” Clarence asked in a mocking tone.

“You would turn your back on your own brother and then, when it is evident that you will not be successful, turn back again and plead forgiveness.” I laughed, “And I never turned my back on my uncle. He is not fit to rule and much better living quietly here with his prayers. It is not as if Lancaster will pose a threat to you. After all, you have bound me to Richard.”

Clarence went to his sword but Richard stopped him.

“That is my wife that you are insulting. I would think twice about it if I were you Brother.”

“And why will Lancaster not pose a threat even though you are a Yorkist Duchess? It is not as if that worked before.” Edward followed me, sitting on the throne almost as soon as I had retrieved my uncle for it. He sprawled there as if he had no cares in the world.

“Because before, Lancaster was my uncle and my cousin. Now Lancaster is myself.” I paused slightly, enjoying the suspense. “I have not told you have I? I am Katherine Duchess of Gloucester and Lancaster and Countess of Monmouth. Dickon is Earl of Cambridge and Harry the Earl of Derby. You hold Lancaster and her heirs now.”

I curtseyed deeply, brushed a kiss on Richard’s cheeks as I walked past him and out towards the Wakefield Tower with my uncle.

It was later that Richard came to me in our chambers. A feast was being organised for that evening but I was unsure whether I would be invited. I was sitting sewing my new coat of arms (The top left was the Monmouth arms of three gold fleur-de-lis on black and blue. The top right and bottom left were the Lancaster arms of the three gold lions of England with a label of three gold fleur-de-lis on blue. The bottom right was the Gloucester arms of the royal arms with a label of ermine) onto a banner by the window.

“Edward is still displeased with you.” He commented, seating himself on the bed.

“I am not surprised. I have been ruling on behalf of my uncle.” I paused and looked at him, letting my mask drop and showing him my true feelings. “What about you? After all, your wife betrayed you.”

“I am not pleased, I must admit, but you did what was best. If Warwick had been the puppet master it would have been much harder reclaiming the throne for Edward than it was. And I dare not think what Warwick would have done to you.”

I stood and knelt before him, burying my head into his knees.

“My lord husband, I beg forgiveness for the betrayal I have done to you and your house.” I murmured, hating every word but knowing this was essential. Richard could now inform Edward that I had knelt and begged forgiveness of him as my lord and husband. It would save me from whatever Edward may wish to do.

“You kept yourself and our children alive. You have not betrayed my house but kept it alive.” Richard grasped my arms and pulled me up, kissing me as he did. “I have missed you and the boys terribly.”

“And I you. It broke my heart when Dickon started speaking for he would always ask where you were and I could not give him an answer.”

“You have done well for them. Earls of Cambridge and Derby and future Dukes of Gloucester and Lancaster.”

“I meant what I said in the Hall. You own Lancaster now. You Yorkists have won and we Lancastrians are at your mercy.”

“Not too much at my mercy Kate. I need my wife and Duchess at my side tonight. I cannot stand another night of George’s comments. And the Queen will return.”

“With the Prince.” My stepmother had given birth to a boy, Edward, in Sanctuary the previous November. “Has George really been that bad?”

“Yes. He is constantly reminding me that you were with your uncle.”

“As if he were not with us at the start.” I paused and stared intently at Richard. “Tell me the truth. What will happen to my uncle?”

Richard stared back and it was silence for a few moments before he sighed.

“I think you know exactly what will happen to him.”

I closed my eyes and slumped into his side. It was as I feared.

“May I take the boys and say a final goodbye?” I asked quietly, twisting the ring my uncle had given me. It had belonged to Blanche Duchess of Lancaster, my great-great-grandmother.

“I will ask Edward at the feast but I see no reason why not. Come, we must make ready to go soon.”

Richard stood up and in silence we readied ourselves for the feast. Richard was in his habitual dark blue, the same as that on the Monmouth arms, while I was in my usual red and white combination as a visual statement of my divided loyalties.

“Their Graces The Duke of Gloucester and The Duchess of Lancaster.” The herald announced as we entered.

“Was that Edward’s orders or yours?” I muttered quietly.

“Edward’s. As you so eloquently said, we hold Lancaster now and he wants everyone to know.”

We seated ourselves on the dais, Richard to the left of my stepmother and I to Richard’s left. Clarence and Isabel Neville were on Edward’s other side. It did not bode well for a comfortable dinner.

Indeed it was not. Clarence spent most of the feast making comments towards my loyalties which I, occasionally as to not seem so combative, returned. Duchess Isobel was sneering at me but her heart did not seem to be in it. I thought that was fair as she had lost her father, her mother was still in Sanctuary on the south coast and her younger sister was confined to her chambers on account of her marriage to my late cousin. My stepmother’s hatred for Clarence had not dimmed, indeed it seem fiercer. She did not like Duchess Isobel and had not for many years while her hatred for me was a comforting return to normal. Edward was still short with me but I thought that we had perhaps come to an understanding. Only time would tell.

After the feast, Richard told me to change and retrieved Dickon and Henry. He led me to the base of the Wakefield Tower where Edward and Clarence were waiting.

“Why are they here?” Clarence asked, swaying slightly from all the wine he had drunk.

“My wife wishes to say farewell to her uncle.” Richard said shortly, unlocking the door to my uncle’s chambers.

“You do not have long. When we enter you will leave.” Edward warned, staring down at me. I nodded and curtseyed, it did not hurt to appease him whenever possible. By his pursed lips I knew that he knew what I was doing.

“Uncle?” 

My uncle was again at prayers so I knelt next to him, encouraging Dickon to do the same. I started praying for God to accept my uncle and for him to go peacefully.

“Katie.” My uncle looked at me. “I will meet him soon.”

I could not talk but simply nodded.

“Dickon, Harry, be good for your Mama. And to your future siblings.” My uncle said, hugging them close. It seemed that knowledge of his impending death had broke my uncle out of his normal state for he was more coherent than I had seen in a very long time.

“I ‘tect Mama.” Dickon announced. Harry replied to my uncle by hiccupping which brought a teary smile to my face.

“Katie. I have been blessed to have you as a daughter. Keep our family alive and be happy. That is what your mother would have wanted. For you to be happy.”

The door opened and Edward stepped through.

“I ask for your blessing Uncle.” I said through tears.

My uncle laid a hand on my head and whispered a prayer and blessing. 

“Uncle.” I sobbed, clinging to him, both of us still kneeling in his private chapel. Richard had come forward and removed Dickon and Harry.

“Katherine.” Edward said warningly.

“Go with God Katie. Be happy. I love you.” My uncle said, placing a kiss on my forehead. I sobbed harder.

“I love you too.” I managed between sobs, clinging to him and refusing to let go.

Richard came back and gently untangled me from my uncle. I turned and sobbed into his chest.

“You are a good man Richard of Gloucester. Look after my daughter.” My uncle said as Richard guided me out of the chamber and back to the staircase where Dickon and Harry were sitting. He held my head between his hands, closed his eyes, let go and re-entered my uncle’s chambers, locking the door behind him.

I stayed there, sobbing on the stairs and clutching my two sons – one York and the other Lancaster – until Richard, Edward, and Clarence emerged. I looked up. 

Clarence had a smile, he enjoyed seeing me cry for my uncle. Edward was stony faced. Richard was smiling softly and sympathetically at me. He picked up Dickon and put his arm around my waist. I held onto Harry as I sobbed into his chest more. 

I was the last Lancastrian for real now.


	10. 30 May 1472

30 May 1472 – Winchester Castle, Hampshire

The Court held its breath as the multitude of Woodville’s and their relations descended upon Winchester Castle. We had taken up residence at the start of April and were meant to have moved by the first anniversary of my uncle’s death but Tante Jacquette was ill and my stepmother was refusing to allow it to move. 

“How many more of them are there?” Richard asked me, coming to stand next to me in the window overlooking the courtyard where another group of Woodville’s had arrived. 

“I do not know. They do not exactly like me so I do not bother to keep up with their number.” I shot back, feeling helpless for standing here and not being in Tante Jacquette’s chamber – my stepmother had forbidden me from entering.

“Over twenty at last count I thought.” A voice came from behind us which had us spinning around and facing Edward. “Why are you here and not with my mother-in-law?”

“Your wife forbid me. Something about me not being related to her and so not allowed in.”

Edward and I had repaired our relationship over the past year and, even though I would normally be joking with him, I was in no mood to joke. The anniversary of my uncle’s death was just nine days previously and I had been in a melancholy mood these last few weeks, not helped by Tante Jacquette’s illness. In many way, Tante Jacquette was as much the last Lancastrian as I was, being the widow of John Duke of Bedford, my grandfather’s younger brother. Coming this close to the anniversary of my uncle’s death, I was in no mood to joke or even attempt to be happy. Not to mention that I had delivered of a third child, our first daughter, on St George’s Day after a long and arduous labour. We had named her Georgiana after the saint.

“Come with me.” Edward beckoned, striding down the halls, courtiers stopping and bowing as he passed, Richard and I hurrying in his wake.

We reached the chambers set aside for Tante Jacquette where Edward opened the door without knocking. Seeing the opportunity, I slipped in after him. Richard waited outside for he was not close to Tante Jacquette, seeing her as my stepmother’s mother rather than my great-aunt who had stood by me at the start of my court life under Edward.

“Elizabeth.” Edward greeted my stepmother and nodded to the many Woodville’s within the chamber. There were so many that it was hard to move around them.

“Edward!” My stepmother exclaimed, “Have you come to see Mother?”

“No. I came to deliver Kate to her.” Edward said shortly.

“Kate? Why would you bring my Lady Lancaster here?”

“Why would I not. Your mother is her great-aunt. She deserves to be here just as much as all your relations.”

My stepmother simply huffed but acquiesced, knowing it was futile to argue with Edward when he was in a mood. I dipped a small curtsey, not as deep as the one I made to Edward to which he supressed a smile, and sat on the side of the bed.

“Tante Jacquette?” I asked softly to the slumbering figure under the bedding.

“Katherine. Where are your boys?” Tante Jacquette whispered.

“Driving their nurses to distraction most likely.” I shrugged with a small smile.

“Never mind, you are here now. At my end.” She reached out with a frail hand and ran it down my face. “A reminder of earlier times as second lady of the realm. You look much like John did, as Henry did, and as your mother did.”

“Lancastrian.” I whispered, knowing full well the danger of that statement.

“Yes, and you always will be, no matter what you are called now. A word of caution, Clarence will tear the brothers apart. You must do all you can to keep your husband and my son-in-law bound together. You must not allow a Brothers War as we have had the Cousins War.”

I searched Tante Jacquette’s face and saw how serious she was about this information. She feared the Yorkist’s breaking apart as much as I did.

“Promise me Katherine.” She gripped my hand harder and I was transported back to the Wakefield Tower the previous year and my tearful farewell to my uncle.

“I promise Tante Jacquette.” I leant forward and kissed her hand.

“You are a good girl Katherine.” Tante Jacquette closed her eyes and turned her face away from me.

“Leave.” My stepmother’s voice cut through my grief. I looked up and saw her looking pointedly at the door behind me.

“Come now Elizabeth, let Katherine stay a little longer.” Edward attempted to intervene.

“Leave.” My stepmother repeated. My brothers – Thomas, now Earl of Huntingdon, was seventeen while Richard was fourteen, and so a much more threatening sight than the two boys they had been – stepped forward as if to escort me from the room. I glared at them.

“Really-“ Edward started but I cut him off.

“It is fine Edward. I must return to Richard and the boys.” I attempted to stop the argument between Edward and my stepmother but, as I was almost by the door, I did not know whether it worked.

“Well?” Richard pushed himself of the wall where he had been waiting for me.

“She will not last long.” I muttered, slipping my arm through his and walking back to our chambers. We were met part-way by some more Woodville’s who made their obeisance’s and hurriedly past us. “They may not even be quick enough.”

“I am sorry Kate. I know how much she meant to you.”

“We must all go to God someday.” I said simply.

“It does not make it any easier.” Richard commented.

“No it does not.”

“Uncle Gloucester.” A new voice interrupted our melancholic speech. It was my brother Thomas’ wife Anne – the sole daughter of Richard’s elder sister Anne Duchess of Exeter and her hated ex-husband Henry Duke of Exeter (they had finalised their divorce just three weeks previous). 

Anne’s relation to myself was a prime example of how convoluted and complex my family tree was. She was my half-brother’s wife as well as being my husband’s niece. Furthermore, her father’s paternal grandmother was Elizabeth of Lancaster, the elder sister of my great-grandfather Henry IV. Not just that, but her father’s maternal grandmother was Anne of Gloucester, a daughter of Thomas of Woodstock who was the youngest son of Edward III – my great-great-great-grandfather. It all got rather confusing and we found it easier to refer to her simply as niece.

“Anne. What are you doing here? Should you not be in with your husband’s family?” Richard asked.

“They do not like me. I think the Queen wishes for grandchildren but I am too young and so my worth is only in my ancestry. She cannot wait for my father to die so Lord Huntington can become the Duke of Exeter.” Anne said. She was only eleven but had grown up learning her value – especially as she had been married to my half-brother when she was just five.

“My sister would have something to say about that.” Richard smiled.

“Anyway, there are too many in there for my liking.” Anne did not do well with crowds and much preferred to be in a corner sewing or playing the lute than mingling with others.

“Who is in there? I could not work it out while I was visiting Tante Jacquette.” I asked her as we continued walking towards our chambers, Anne slipping between us.

“All of Lady Bedford’s children and grandchildren bar my cousin the Prince of Wales.” Anne said simply. “Do you have any sweetmeats?”

Richard laughed and shook his head. Anne pouted. Before she could reply, her mother and Richard’s sister came down the halls.

“Anne. Why did I learn of your coming from a servant and not yourself?” Duchess Anne scolded.

“I only just arrived with Countess Rivers. I was coming to visit you when I saw Uncle Gloucester and Aunt Lancaster so I stopped to talk to them.”

“Hmm. Well, come along now Anne. We have much to talk about.”

Duchess Anne walked off, ignoring Richard and I completely as she normally did when her precious daughter was around.

“All the Woodville’s!” Richard laughed, “Shall we have dinner in our chambers tonight rather than wade through the Rivers?”

I laughed in reply. Queen Elizabeth with Princesses Elizabeth, Mary, Cecily, and Margaret, the Earl and Countess Rivers, Lionel Bishop of Salisbury, Richard Woodville, Edward Woodville, Viscount and Viscountess Bourchier with Henry Bourchier, Baron and Baroness Strange, Sir Anthony and Lady Eleanor Grey, Baron and Baroness Maltravers with Edward and Margaret, Sir John and Lady Martha Bromley with John Bromley, the Earl and Countess of Pembroke, and Catherine Duchess of Buckingham were a lot for anyone.

“I believe a family dinner is just what is needed. Edward will not mind.” I agreed.

It was only as Richard and I were retiring to bed that a page knocked and was granted permission to enter. His face said it all.

“My condolences Your Grace, but Her Grace Jacquetta Dowager Duchess of Bedford and Dowager Countess Rivers has passed.”

I turned my head to Richard and cried. My beloved Tante Jacquette was gone and with her the woman who had all the answers to my dilemmas. Even with Richard and our three children, I felt more alone than ever.


	11. 29 December 1476

29 December 1476 – Windsor Castle, Berkshire

Richard and I were just emerging from St George’s Chapel, with the children (Dickon was now seven, Harry was six, Georgiana four, and our newest children three-year-old Jacquetta (born on the anniversary of Tante Jacquette’s death), and one-year-old Edward (Ned to us). They would soon have a sibling for I was eight months gone with my sixth child) amid the scaffolding which heralded Edward’s rebuilding efforts when we heard the news. Edward, my stepmother, and their children (ten-year-old Elizabeth, nine-year-old Mary, seven-year-old Cecily, six-year-old Edward, three-year-old Richard, and one-year old Anne (Margaret had died in December 1472 when she was just eight months old)) were just in front of us when the herald, dressed in Clarence’s livery, dropped to his knees in front of them.

“Your Graces. I have news from His Grace The Duke of Clarence. The Duchess died seven days past and it does not look likely that the child will live. The Duke is distraught.” The herald forced out.

Any Christmas cheer we had vanished. Duchess Isobel was twenty-five and had seemed healthy the last time we had seen her the previous Christmas. And Clarence being distraught did not bode well. Richard and I exchanged glances.

“Lady Anne has collapsed.” Came a cry from behind us. Turning, we saw the slight figure of Lady Anne Neville lying prone on the floor. She had spent the last five and a half years as a near prisoner at Court and had not had a very strong constitution. I feared that both of Warwick’s daughters may die within days of each other.

“Announce Court mourning.” Edward announced, gesturing for Richard to join him on a fast walk up the hill to the castle. I was left behind with my stepmother.

“Good riddance.” She muttered. I held in a gasp.

“Your Grace. The late Duchess was an innocent. We should return to the Chapel and pray for her soul.” I admonished, shifting Ned’s weight in my arms. “Dickon, Harry, no fighting.” I attempted to separate my two boisterous sons.

“She would have rejoiced in my death so I will rejoice in hers.” Came my stepmother’s reply. I pursed my lips.

“Nonetheless I will be returning to the Chapel. Lizzie, can you tell your Uncle Richard where I have gone.” I directed the last bit to my eldest niece, knowing she would do as I asked for she loved Richard, despite my stepmother attempting to distance the royal children from Richard and I.

My stepmother and I had always hated each other but now she had started to try and influence her children against Richard and I. She feared Richard’s influence over Edward was stronger than hers (which had deteriorated over the last half decade, what with Edward taking mistresses regularly) and also attempted to separate Richard from Edward. That had happened, but not due to my stepmother. The previous year Edward had rallied England and invaded France. All dreams of glory ended on 29 August 1475 when Edward signed the Treaty of Picquigny guaranteeing seven years of peace and free trade between England and France. Richard, who had dreams of glory and replicating my grandfather’s successes, was furious. He was made even more furious by Edward accepting a yearly pension of 50,000 crowns from King Louis. Richard refused to take a pension and returned home to me. Despite this, Richard’s loyalty to Edward was unshakeable. 

Edward had perhaps sensed that Richard needed some space from him and so had sent us to the North to lead the Council of the North. We had made our home in Pontefract Castle, one of my Lancaster lands and where King Richard II had been killed on behalf of my great-grandfather. Despite the troubling history, we had made it into a family home and had only returned south for Easter and then Christmas. We would stay in London at Crosby Place (our London residence) until I had had this child, then return north.

I spent a few minutes praying for Duchess Isobel’s soul, along with my children all of whom were squirming as they had just sat through a long service already and wanted to run around and cause chaos. I gave in to their quiet protests and, gathering the growing hoard, returned to the castle. Dropping the children off in the nursery, where their royal cousins were already playing, I headed to find Richard and Edward.

“We do not know what he could do Edward.” Richard’s raised voice greeted me as I walked past Edward’s private office. I knocked and William Hastings opened it.

“Who is it?” Edward asked.

“My Lady Lancaster.” William Hastings replied, sounding upset.

“Let Kate in.” Richard ordered.

William Hastings stepped back and allowed me through. Richard passed me a glass of wine and motioned to the spare space to his left on the sideboard.

“What are you arguing about now?” I asked, exasperated.

“Your husband believes that George will do nothing now that his wife is dead.” Edward said, gesturing with his wine to Richard, sloshing it over the sides.

“How much have you drunk?” I raised an eyebrow. Richard and Hastings chocked back laughs at Edward’s disgruntled face. “And George will do nothing at the moment. If the herald is correct, he is too grief stricken to do much. Later on perhaps.” I trailed off.

Richard started nodding next to me.

“See, Kate knows what I am talking about.”

“Kate knows what everyone is talking about.” Edward retorted. I just grinned sweetly, knowing full well that it was a true statement. I had properties in most counties and so could always be relied upon to know what was happening.

“There is no use debating what ifs at the moment. Let the Duchess be laid to rest before you start.” I took a sip of my wine, “Then you may intrigue to your hearts content about what George might do.”

I took another sip, passed the goblet to Richard and stood.

“If that has averted your panicked crisis. I will be finishing off some New Years Gifts.”

I left Richard, Edward, and Hastings to their worrying, pretending I was not worried myself. I was. I remembered Tante Jacquette’s death-bed warning and feared what Clarence might do. He was just reckless and stupid and charismatic enough to cause a Brothers War. All I could do was wait.


	12. 18 February 1478

18 February 1478 – Crosby Place, City of London

“There is no use pacing Richard.” I looked up from my reading to stare at my husband who was pacing furiously around our withdrawing chamber. “You are scaring the children.”

Dickon, at nearly nine thinking himself quite the little man, and Harry, a very mature boy at seven-and-a-half, had stopped play fighting and were staring at Richard in wariness. Richard, seeing this, stopped and slumped down in a chair by the fire, lifting our youngest, one-year-old Katherine (Kathy), onto his lap.

“I cannot help it. George is to die today at Edward’s orders.” Richard’s face was twisted in pain at the events that were happening, almost as if he could not believe that one brother had turned on the other. After all, they had been the Three Sons of York for over a decade now.

“Edward had no choice but to punish George for what he did.” I argued softly, understanding Richard’s pain. 

“Did he have to order his execution? And for it to be drowning in malmsey.” Richard retorted.

“Edward could have done no other. George undermined the judicial process with poor Ankarette Twynyho, and paid astronomers to encompass Edward’s death and then attempted to stop the trials of the astronomers. He was an idiot, and worse, a treacherous idiot.” I sighed, “You did all you could have done for him Richard. You argued against his imprisonment, almost to the point of risking myself and our children, and argued against his upcoming death. Without you, I would think that George would be publicly executed rather than privately. This way he is spared the embarrassment and public humiliation of that. And it is hardly Edward’s fault that George will die in malmsey – it was George himself that chose that.”

“I should have done more.” Richard thundered. Kathy started crying furiously. 

“Papa. Are you alright?” Jacquetta asked, pausing in her game of dolls with Georgiana.

“I am fine Jacquetta.” Richard waved her query off, ignoring my raised eyebrow. “Papa is just a bit upset with Uncle Edward.”

“Because of Uncle Clarence?” Georgiana piped up, staring at Richard intently.

“Why do we have such intelligent children?” Richard groaned, looking at me as if it were my fault.

“Because we are intelligent ourselves. And yes Georgiana, Papa is upset because of Uncle Edward and Uncle Clarence. Now, how do you know this young lady?” I questioned Georgiana.

“Dickon told me.” Georgiana pointed at Dickon who had returned to playing knight with Harry.

“I did not!” Dickon protested, throwing his sword down and launching himself at Georgiana.

“Dickon!” I yelled, attempting to stand up but I was hampered by my stomach for I was seven-months pregnant again. “Richard, deal with your children.”

Richard stood and pulled Dickon away from Georgiana who came rushing to me, crying. I attempted to soothe her while Richard disciplined Dickon but we were interrupted by a messenger from Edward. Our faces fell.

“Harry, Jacquetta, take your siblings and return to the nursery.” I ordered, prising Georgiana off my waist and nudging her in the direction of the door. Harry picked up Kathy while Jacquetta helped Ned towards the door. Richard pushed Dickon after them, promising that they would return to this conversation later.

“Your Graces.” The messenger bowed, “Lord George Plantagenet, late called The Duke of Clarence, has been put to death in the Tower of London.”

Richard’s face fell and he collapsed down into the chair he had just vacated.

“Did he suffer?” I asked quietly, attempting to reach forward and comfort him but failing. 

“No Your Grace. He died quietly and with dignity.”

“Thank you. You may leave.” I waved him away to allow Richard to grieve in privacy.

“Nothing my brother ever did was done quietly and with dignity.” Richard snorted, shaking his head.

“Perhaps he was changed by his imprisonment?” I suggested.

“Not likely. I cannot believe that George would go to his death quietly, rather he went struggling and raving. That was just said to placate us.”

“Richard…” I heaved myself out of my chair and seated myself on Richard’s lap. 

“I cannot stay here. This place is toxic and I do not wish our children to be exposed to it. I cannot face Edward after what he has done.” Richard said, muffled as he leant his face into my shoulder.

I could not argue with Richard’s reasoning but I knew that this could cause Edward to go into a rage. He had executed one brother, what would he do to the other who would rather leave the orbit of the court and retire to our holdings in the north, to live quietly with his wife and children.

“Go rest. I will have the stewards pack. We will leave tomorrow.”

When I left the withdrawing chamber I found our children leaning against the door in an attempt to listen in.

“And what do you think you are doing?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips and staring down at them.

“We just wanted to know what was going on.” Harry said, attempting to looking innocent.

“Hmmm…” I continued staring at them before Dickon broke.

“Is it true? Is Uncle Clarence dead?”

“Yes. Uncle Clarence is dead. Now, we will be discussing this during our long journey back home which you will all go assist in packing for.”

The children hurried off, slightly shaken by my confirming Clarence’s death. I sat down on my bed in our bedchamber and cried. I may not have liked Clarence and he was an incredibly stupid person with what he did, but he did not deserve to die. I was also worried about Richard’s reaction – he had always been so loyal to Edward, had idolised him for he was ten years older and had done so much while Richard was just a child – but Edward’s actions in the last few years had tested that unquestioning loyalty. France, the mistresses, and now Clarence had shaken his faith in Edward and I was worried about what this would mean for us.


	13. 14 April 1483

14 April 1483 – Pontefract Castle, Yorkshire

It was a quiet spring day when our lives changed forever. It had been five years since Clarence’s execution and we had only returned to the Court for Christmases. Other than then, we had lived on our estates in the North and Midlands. Our favourite was Pontefract Castle and it were here we had made our main residence. The family had expanded again with the birth of Cecily in September 1479 and John in September 1481. We had also faced tragedy. The child I had been pregnant with during Clarence’s execution was a boy, George, who lived just two days, and I had delivered a stillborn son just the previous October. But we had eight living children (Dickon, Harry, Georgiana, Jacquetta, Ned, Kathy, Cecily, and John) and Richard’s niece and nephew, Clarence’s children Margaret (Maggie) and Edward, who was called Teddy to avoid confusion with our Ned. Richard was the well-respected and much loved Lord President of the Northern Council while many here were staunch Lancastrian supporters and revelled in having their Duchess (as they regarded me) back. However, as with all good things, it had to come to an end.

Richard had a rare day without meetings and petitioners and so we had grasped the opportunity the sun afforded us for a day spent as a family in the gardens. We were joined by Francis Lord Lovell (Richard’s childhood friend) and his daughter Anne. Francis had married Anne Neville in May 1479 as she had travelled with us to the North who loved her for being a Neville. Unfortunately, Anne had died in childbirth in July 1480, leaving Francis a widower and her baby motherless. Richard and I had stood as godparents to little Anne Lovell and had then insisted that she join the nursery, not just as the daughter of our cousin but as the daughter of our great friend. Georgiana had taken to her immediately and, despite being only eight, had started mothering her from the start. We had already come to an arrangement with Francis where Anne would marry our John, despite them being little more than babes in arms (John, as our fourth son would inherit none of our titles as Gloucester went to Dickon, Lancaster to Harry, and Monmouth to Ned. Anne had inherited her half of the combined Warwick-Salisbury fortune and would, if Francis did not remarry (and he was not like to as he had truly loved Anne Neville with all his being), be his heir as well. With this marriage John would be Earl of Salisbury in lieu of his wife. Teddy, Clarence’s son, had inherited the Earldom of Warwick from his mother Duchess Isobel).

“Aunt Kate, Ned hit me in the head.” Teddy sobbed as he threw himself onto my lap. 

“No I did not Mama. He moved.” Ned refuted, trying to push Teddy off my lap to claim it for himself.

Teddy and Ned were only eight months apart in age and it showed, they constantly fought with each other for our attention in a way that made Dickon and Harry look like well-behaved children.

“Actually Mama, they hit each other.” Dickon intervened to stop the impending argument. “And it was not even that hard. Harry and I definitely hit each other harder than that when we were their age.”

That caused Ned and Teddy to launch themselves at Dickon who had anticipated this and run away as soon as the words were out of his mouth. I gave a sigh and wondered what I had done to deserve such boisterous boys.

“I do hope you are not like your older brothers and cousin.” I said, leaning over John where he was sleeping.

“Then you would be complaining that he was boring.” Jacquetta sat next to me and took a sweetmeat from the spread laid out behind us.

“I suppose I would. I despair of my boys and am glad of my girls.” I tugged her to my side and smiled over her head as Richard was jumped on by Ned and Teddy.

“Except when Maggie destroys her sewing and Kathy trips over her own feet dancing.”

“I despair of you less than your brothers.”

Any reply from Jacquetta was cut short by Georgiana, Maggie, and Kathy running up to us, all red faced and out of breath.

“Aunt Kate.” Maggie started before being cut off by Kathy.

“There’s a messenger on the road.” Kathy was cut off by Georgiana.

“He’s wearing Uncle Edward’s livery and looks very dusty.”

Jacquetta stood quickly to allow me to stand. Kathy, the message delivered to me, ran off to Richard, presumably to tell him.

“His horse was caparisoned in black.” Georgiana added quietly, ignoring Jacquetta’s gasp for we all knew what that meant.

The previous year a similar event had occurred bringing us the news that Edward and my stepmother’s second daughter, fourteen-year-old Mary, had died. I did not want to think of who it was now.

“Could it be Grandmother York?” Jacquetta asked.

“No, it would have the York livery not the royal one.” I replied.

“Not if it’s a message from Uncle Edward rather than Grandmother York’s steward.” Georgiana added. I frowned at her but allowed myself some hope that it was my mother-in-law rather than who I feared it might be.

“Grandmother has done well.” Jacquetta pointed out.

“Quiet, both of you.” I ordered at Richard approached, face pale but like stone. “Gather the others and meet us in the Hall.”

Georgiana and Jacquetta nodded their heads, quickly hugged Richard and ran off. I slipped my arm through Richard’s.

“They believe it is your mother.” I said quietly.

“But you do not.” Richard said just as quietly.

“I think we both know it is not her.” I would not say my thoughts out-loud for there were always ears listening for treason.

We made our way silently to the Hall where we sat on the dais, the children arrayed next to us – Dickon, Harry, Teddy, and Ned steadying John to Richard’s right and Georgiana, Jacquetta, Kathy, Maggie, and Cecily gripping Maggie’s skirts to keep her standing to my left. The rest of our household was hastily assembled and lined the walls according to their rank. The messenger entered, dressed in the royal livery, dirty from the road but wearing a black cloak. He bowed and opened his message.

“Your Graces. It is with a sad heart that I take the time to inform you that our Gracious Sovereign Edward the Fourth of His Name passed at his Palace of Westminster on the ninth day of April. Although Her Grace the Dowager Queen has not publicised this but His Grace appointed you as Lord Protector of the Realm during the minority of the new King Edward the Fifth of His Name. William, Lord Hastings has sent me to tell you this.”

We crossed ourselves and bowed our heads, fighting to not break down and cry in front of the messenger and our household.

“You have our thanks for bringing us this terrible news.” Richard spoke up, his voice wavering just a little. “The King is dead. Long live the King.”

Everyone knelt at Richard’s words and crossed themselves again, chanting “Long live the King” over and over again. Edward was dead, my great cousin and brother-in-law who had subdued us Lancastrians and repaired England’s prestige with our continental neighbours. He was gone and we were to be ruled by a twelve-and-a-half year old boy who had been raised almost solely by the Rivers. What would we walk into when Richard and I arrived in London to start his tenure as Lord Protector.


	14. 30 April 1483

30 April 1483 – the road from Northampton to Stony Stratford

“I am not happy with this.” I leant over my horse to whisper to Richard who was riding next to me.

“I am of the same feeling. Are you not glad that we left the children at home?” Richard grabbed the bridle of my horse, bringing me closer and attempting to protect me from the hostile stares of our nephew’s men who were escorting us, as well as the Duke of Buckingham and Earl Rivers, to our new King.

We had left Pontefract ten days before, riding to York for a funeral ceremony there as well as an oath taking ceremony. Our train numbered only three hundred but we had returned to Pontefract for one night on the twenty-forth, to celebrate Jacquetta’s eleventh birthday - albeit one day late – and left with an extra fifty in our retinue. We had made arrangements for the children to travel to London separately, arriving mid-May. While at Pontefract we had received a letter from Earl Rivers suggesting Northampton as our meeting place. So, we had left Pontefract once more and made our way, first to Nottingham and then, last night, to Northampton. While in Nottingham we had had contact with the Duke of Buckingham, who had an inflated idea of his own importance being a descendent of Edward III through his youngest son. Buckingham had warned us that the Rivers were moving against us and that we should be wary. The Dowager Queen was determined to stop Richard becoming Lord Protector.

When we had arrived at Northampton we were met by Earl Rivers, who had been the new king’s Governor since he had moved to Ludlow in early 1473. I had an ambivalent relationship with Earl Rivers in that, unlike most of the Rivers family, he did not hate me, rather he saw me as the powerful Duchess of Lancaster. Richard had demanded to know where his nephew was as we had been told that we would be meeting young Edward in Northampton. Sir Thomas Vaughan, young Edward’s elderly Welsh Chamberlain, had gone for his sword but Earl Rivers had quieten him before informing us that the king wished to remain at Stony Stratford for he did not wish to travel to Northampton today, having already travelled many miles. We had, as good subjects, nodded and accepted that. Buckingham then made his appearance with five-hundred men and caused more uneasiness between young Edward’s adherents, ours, and Buckingham’s.

After an uneasy night where Richard had ordered our men to stay alert and he himself had slept with a dagger under our bedding, we had all left Northampton early to travel to Stony Stratford to meet and swear fealty to young Edward. However, we knew something was wrong. Our retinue, along with Buckingham’s, were at the centre of the cavalcade and surrounded by young Edward’s men – men who were loyal to the Rivers.

“Your Graces, the king is just ahead. We are able to stop if you wish to tidy yourselves.” Earl Rivers came up from behind Richard’s left, startling us.

“Thank you my lord but I am sure His Grace will excuse our appearance in favour of us not keeping him waiting. And a royal Duke and Duchess swearing fealty takes a great longer than that of others.” I smiled at Earl Rivers graciously and urged my horse forward, Richard matching me.

Waiting up ahead was a crowd of people, and at their centre was the figure of a boy – blond hair and, from what I could see of him on the horse, a rather slimmer and more delicate figure than Edward’s and one more akin to Richard’s. We reigned in our horses and dismounted, walking the few steps towards our nephew and new king.

“Your Graces.” Young Edward spoke, still in a high voice.

“Your Grace.” We fell to our knees. Richard removed his sword from its scabbard and drove it into the ground, bowing his head over it. Young Edward’s chaplain brought forward a Bible upon which Richard rested one hand, the other holding his sword.

“I Richard Duke of Gloucester, son of the late Richard Duke of York and rightful King of England and his wife Cecily Dowager Duchess of York, swear that I am your loyal subject and will be faithful to you and your heirs, upholding your rights, and fighting against those who wish harm upon you and your aforesaid heirs. I acknowledge you, Edward eldest son and heir unto my late brother Edward the Forth of His Name, as the rightful King of England and France and Lord of Ireland. This I swear by the Holy Bible.” 

There was no response to this from young Edward and I was not the only one who was uneasy with his silence. It was part of swearing fealty that the lord would respond, accepting the fealty and taking that person under their protection. I shouldered on, placing my hand upon the Bible and ignoring the intakes of breath from those surrounding us of me, a married woman, swearing fealty instead of my husband doing it for me.

“I Katherine Duchess of Lancaster and Countess of Monmouth, wife unto Richard Duke of Gloucester, and daughter of the late Sir John Grey of Groby and his late wife Katherine Grey née Fitzroy Countess of Monmouth, swear that I am your loyal subject and will be faithful to you and your heirs, upholding your rights, and giving men to fight against those who wish harm upon you and your aforesaid heirs. I acknowledge you, Edward eldest son and heir unto my late cousin Edward the Forth of His Name, as the rightful King of England and France and Lord of Ireland. This I swear by the Holy Bible.”

“You may rise Your Graces.” Was all Young Edward said, not acknowledging our oaths of fealty. Without him acknowledging them we were technically not bound by them, and that was a dangerous place to be in.

Richard and I exchanged glances and rose without speaking, our faces stony. Earl Rivers was whispering furiously to young Edward who abruptly cut him off and motioned to my half-brother Sir Richard Grey to approach. As Richard and I mounted our horses again, Earl Rivers rode over to us.

“Your Graces, you have my apologies for the slight against you our nephew has shown.” Earl Rivers’ face was grave, understanding full-well how perilous the situation was. The new king had refused to acknowledge the fealty of his two most powerful subjects, his aunt and his uncle who was also his Lord Protector. It was not a good start to our relationship.

“We know that you have no control over His Grace and cannot be held accountable by what he has done.” I said, knowing that my words were an insult. Earl Rivers was the king’s Governor and tutor and hence should have control over his actions. That he did not made him look bad.

“The Duchess and I will ride ahead of the King’s retinue so we may prepare London for his arrival and meet with the Privy Council and Parliament so that we may have accomplished the main arguments before His Grace’s arrival.” Richard continued, signalling to our steward to start preparations for our departure.

“Are you going somewhere, Sister?” Sir Richard asked, sneering at calling me sister, an insult from his mouth for he had never called me that and had very obviously ignored my title as a Royal Duchess. “I do not remember my brother the King allowing you to leave.”

He circled his horse around in front of us, blocking any way out.

“The Duke and I had planned on heading to London ahead of His Grace in order to smooth any arguments the Privy Council or Parliament may have before His Grace appears. We discussed this with Earl Rivers in our letters, which obviously he did not share with you, dearest brother.” I could be as cutting and insulting as my half-brother, indeed I was better for I had survived more than he had.

Richard moved himself in front of me, trusting that I would be protected by our guards, cautiously watching Sir Richard.

“Her Grace speaks true nephew. We had agreed this but I saw no reason why you needed to know.” Earl Rivers spoke up in our defence. I gave him a brief thankful smile.

Without warning, Sir Richard lunged forward, dagger flashing as he went for Richard. He did not have the reach and, thankfully, missed Richard. However, Richard overbalanced in his attempt to avoid the dagger and fell from his horse. A pained cry came from behind me and I turned to see Sir Thomas Vaughan thrusting his sword through one of the guards protecting me. Three guards pulled him off his horse and removed any weapons from his body. 

“Careful with him.” I called, aware that Sir Thomas was in his seventh decade of life and not wishing to harm an elderly man.

“What are you doing?” Earl Rivers cried to Sir Richard in outrage.

“What must be done.” Was Sir Richard’s reply, fighting off the guards that were attempting to apprehend him for his harming their lord.

“Arrest both Sir Thomas and Sir Richard.” I ordered, dismounting amid protests from my steward and Earl Rivers and kneeling next to Richard. “Are you alright?”

“My shoulder.” Richard moaned. 

When I looked, Richard’s shoulder had been dislocated but for many it would not be noticeable for it evened Richard’s shoulders out now. He was rather self-conscious about his shoulders for one was higher than the other and this had caused his spine to bend. Most of the time it could be concealed by his clothing but it was a physical weakness where he could not have one.

“Get His Grace up and on his horse. Do it carefully. And find something to bind his arm.” I gestured to some more guards, those that had fought with Richard at Tewkesbury all those years before.

Knowing that Richard was in good hands I turned my attention to Sir Thomas and Sir Richard. Both were held fast by guards but Sir Richard was spitting and spewing insults at me.

“Silence him.” I would not listen to Sir Richard’s insults anymore. “Lord Rivers, see that the king is secured and ready your men to march. Francis, you and your men will go with Lord Rivers.” Both Earl Rivers and Francis Lovell bowed lowly to me and left to their task.

“John, Edmund.” Two of the most experienced knights in our retinue approached and waited for my next commands. “Organise an escort for Sir Thomas and Sir Richard. Take them to Sheriff Hutton. Keep them securely but honourably there until I send orders.”

I surveyed the scene. One of our guards was dead – his body was being tended to by a priest – while my half-brother and my nephew’s elderly Chamberlain were being escorted away by one party of our retinue. Earl Rivers and Francis were securing my nephew and Earl Rivers was reminding the men surrounding my nephew of their allegiance to him as the Earl. And Richard, my Richard was back on his horse, his arm bound to his body to stabilise his shoulder until we were able to get a physician. 

“Mount up and move out.” I shouted, swinging myself onto my horse and coming to rest at Richard’s side, just behind our nephew who was in the middle of Earl Rivers and Francis. 

“You will release my brother Lady Katherine.” My nephew said, “I am the King and I demand it.”

“You may be the king, Your Grace, but our half-brother attempted to kill my husband the Duke of Gloucester, your Lord Protector, while your Chamberlain attempted to kill me, the Duchess of Gloucester and Lancaster and Countess of Monmouth. As you said, you are the King and therefore you must uphold the laws. I will not be releasing either of them.”

“Her Grace.” Earl Rivers emphasised my title that our nephew had refused to call me “has the right of it. They attempted to kill two members of the royal family. Not only that, but one of them is your Lord Protector. That counts as treason.”

“Treason is against the King. I assure you uncle that what my brother did was not against my wishes.” Young Edward retorted.

“You would have me killed.” Richard interjected, ignoring my sharp intake of breath. “Have I not always been loyal to my late brother, your father? Have I not overseen the oaths of the northern counties in your name? Am I not the last adult male of our line? What have I done to earn such actions by yourself?”

“My Lady Mother the Queen says that you have plotted against her and her family. That you stopped my late father from listening to wise council and instead he listened to you and your wife. You say that you are my Lord Protector but I have not said such. I do not need such a person for I will rule by myself. If you became my Lord Protector I would never rule as you will seize all power for yourself.”

Richard, Earl Rivers, Francis and I looked aghast at the vitriol spilling from young Edward’s mouth. This petulant boy indoctrinated by my stepmother was our king.

“Your lady mother is a fool. Had you succeeded in killing the Duke and I you would have had rebellion on your hands. Our sons would not take our deaths quietly and neither would the northern lords who are loyal to my husband as President of the Council of the North, nor any Lancastrian, of whom I am the heir. Killing us would have restarted the conflict between Lancaster and York, only this time it would be Woodville against Lancaster and Gloucester. As it is, you have failed and I and Richard are still alive.”

Young Edward had made an enemy with me and, as many people could attest to, having me as an enemy was a dangerous thing. How this new conflict would turn out was open for everyone but I had bested the Rivers faction before and I was sure I would be able to do so again.


	15. 4 May 1483

4 May 1483 – on the outskirts of the City of London

Nearly nineteen years ago to the day I had ridden from Grafton in Northamptonshire to the Tower of London with my cousin Edward, on my way to meet my future husband Richard Duke of Gloucester. Then I was eleven, nearly twelve and a scared young woman who had had her entire life turned upside down. Now I was a mature thirty year old and mother of eight surviving children. I was the Duchess of Lancaster by blood, of Gloucester by marriage, and Countess of Monmouth by birth, the wife of the Lord Protector of England and the most powerful woman in England. This time, instead of following the King, the King was following me upon my entry to London.

As we rode through Newgate the Londoners were lined up and cheering but they were not cheering for young Edward. They were cheering for Richard and I. The attack from my half-brother and Sir Thomas Vaughan had been disseminated to the Londoners and they had risen up in our defence for we were loved by the Londoners, despite not being in London much the last five years. They still remembered me as the young girl growing up with my uncle, as the young woman trapped within the Yorkist court, as the woman who ruled England on behalf of her uncle, as a councillor of their good King Edward. They remembered Richard as the ever-loyal brother of Edward and as my beloved husband. The Londoners did not know young Edward for he had always lived in Ludlow, in the Welsh Marches and had no particular loyalty to him past him being Edward’s son. 

“God save the Duke and Duchess!”

“God protect Lancaster!”

“May the Lord preserve the Duke and Duchess!”

“Send long life to the Duke and Duchess!”

“Why do they cheer for Gloucester and not for me? Am I not the King rather than them?” Young Edward asked Earl Rivers.

“Because they are thankful that they survived your assassination attempt.” Earl Rivers had spent much of the last few days berating our nephew for his actions. He, thankfully, fell silent at that.

“Your Graces, my lords.” Sir Robert Billesdon the Lord Mayor of London was knelt on the ground, greeting our procession along with five-hundred Aldermen. “We welcome you to the City of London and rejoice at your attendance here.”

“Thank you sir.” Was all young Edward replied with. The Lord Mayor seemed taken aback at the abruptness so Earl Rivers jumped in to save our nephew.

“His Grace is grateful for this reception but we have been riding hard these last weeks since the death of our late lord King Edward and His Grace wishes to retire to his lodgings forthwith.”

The Lord Mayor glanced feverishly at the crowd but hesitated to step forward. I gestured for him to approach.

“Your Grace. The Dowager Queen has taken the King’s siblings into Sanctuary at Westminster Abbey these past four days. The people are angry at this and have been surrounding it since. Perhaps it would be best for His Grace to take up residence in the Tower rather than at Fulham.”

Richard and I looked at each other and then sharply back at the Lord Mayor.

“Is the situation truly that grave?” Richard asked.

“I fear so Your Grace. But I do not wish to find out whether it will deteriorate or not.”

“No, no, that is understandable. We will make for the Tower.” Richard shouted the last section louder for the rest of the procession to hear. 

We changed direction and started heading east rather than south-west. As we went through the City of London the mood continued to be jubilant for Richard and I but silent, or at the very least with fewer calls, for young Edward. I was not the only one who was unnerved by the response from the Londoners and by the time we had arrived at the Tower, young Edward would be kept in check no longer.

“Did you hear them? Shouting for the Lord to preserve Gloucester and yet nothing for me! They should not shout to preserve Gloucester when it is not my wish for them to be preserved.” Young Edward yelled as he stormed up the staircase into the White Tower. “I tell you I do not want Gloucester to be preserved.”

“I will not stay here, not with the King wishing for our deaths.” I broke the silence that hung between all us nobles in the procession.

“Crosby will not be prepared but perhaps my mother will be happy to accommodate us at Baynard’s?” Richard stated. “Francis, Lord Rivers, I leave you in charge of His Grace’s person.”

“We will keep him to the White Tower, Your Grace.” Francis said, Earl Rivers nodding mutely in agreement. His loyalty to our nephew had been broken irreparably these last few days and he followed us rather than his sister the Dowager Queen.

“Ah, William.” Lord Hastings had arrived and it was him that Richard now addressed. “If you could convene the Privy Council at my Lady Mother’s residence for after lunch.”

“Of course Your Grace.” Lord Hastings bowed and left to do Richard’s bidding.

Richard turned to me and assisted me back onto my horse. Neither of us wished to stay in the vicinity of our nephew longer than we needed to.

It took us longer than it should have to go from the Tower to Baynard’s Castle for the crowds continued to be jubilant at our appearance and continued health.   
However, we managed to arrive at Baynard’s before lunch to find Richard’s mother Cecily Dowager Duchess of York swathed in black and looking more unwell than we had seen her before. Richard hurried forward and took her weight for she near collapsed at the sight of her last remaining son.

“My dearest Mother. We have lost the best of us.” Richard said, trying not to weep.

“At least you are now with me in my grief. That woman holed herself up with my grandchildren and no care for the rest of the family. She has been saying that you wish to take the throne for yourself and that your arrest of Grey and Vaughan is just the start. She says she will not come out of Sanctuary nor permit my grandchildren to for fear of them being killed.”

“That is ridiculous! I would never do anything to harm Edward’s children and she knows that. I have ever been loyal to him, I even accepted his ordering George’s death-” Richard was forced to break off as Lady Cecily let out a great wail for Clarence had been her favourite, “and his being bribed by France. She has nothing to fear from me but I have all to fear from her and our new king. Have you been told what happened?”

Lady Cecily nodded and exploded in rage.

“It is that upstart Rivers. He has poisoned my grandson against you.”

“It was not Rivers, surprisingly.” I said, wrapping Lady Cecily in a hug myself, “He is as aghast as we are and has spent much of the previous days berating young Edward, not to any success. Rivers has no control over him. It was my half-brother on behalf of his mother and on the orders of young Edward himself.”

“He is angry about the people shouting for Kate and- well, for Kate rather than him. He said that he does not wish to preserve either of us. He wishes us dead and has not hidden that fact.” Richard added.

“Richard has called the Privy Council to meet here after we eat. We may be able to resolve this yet.” I said hopefully for I did not wish fighting coming from this.

“Let us pray we can.” Lady Cecily bowed her head in agreement. “Come, where are my manners, let us enter and eat.”

Richard and I welcomed the members of the Privy Council into the chamber after we had eaten with Lady Cecily. Many looked taken aback at my presence, seated to the left of Richard who was, as the most senior, at the head of the table. The Archbishop of York, Thomas Rotherham, tried to protest but Richard quickly quietened him and there were no more questions about my attendance.

“My lords.” Richard stood and addressed the seated Councillors, “It is with a heavy heart that I address you now in the aftermath of my dearest brother and king’s death and during the minority of his successor. I ask that you proceed with this Council as you have these past days.”

Richard sat back down and surveyed the men. Cardinal Bourchier, who had officiated over mine and Richard’s wedding those years ago and had become a Cardinal in 1473, cleared his throat.

“Your Grace, it was the wish of the late King, your brother, that, as our new king is a minor, you would be Lord Protector until His Grace reaches sixteen years of age. We, the Council, see no reason to deny the late king’s wish and formally recognise you as Lord Protector effective immediately.” Cardinal Bourchier bowed his head in deference, a gesture that Richard returned.

“You have my sincerest thanks Your Eminence, for your heartfelt words. I will endeavour to fulfil this duty to the best of my abilities and with the help of all who sit as Councillors.”

“We do have a small issue.” Cardinal Bourchier hid a wince.

“And does this small issue involve the Dowager Queen?” I asked dryly.

“Yes Your Grace. With the Dowager Queen and her children in Sanctuary we are unable to execute the late King’s will regarding his bequests to his children. Furthermore, the rumours that the Dowager Queen and her supporters are disseminating are concerning to say the least.”

“That I have arrested Sir Richard Grey and Sir Thomas Vaughan wrongfully and are attempting a coup which would cause me to harm my brother’s children?” Richard raised an eyebrow. The councillors nodded. “My lords, you all know me well. In your learned opinions, would I do such a thing to my brother’s heirs and his widow?”

“You would not Your Grace.” John Morton Bishop of Ely acquiesced. “Your loyalty to our late king is legendary.”

“The truth of the matter is that our new king ordered Sir Richard and Sir Thomas to assassinate both myself and my wife the Duchess of Lancaster. Thankfully they did not succeed. The Duchess had them arrested in the wake of the assassination attempt. I was unable to as, while avoiding Sir Richard, I had fallen from my horse and injured my shoulder. Their arrests are legal.” Richard started.

“I had them taken to Sheriff Hutton as it was the safest place I could think of. I was not risking them being released. The king informed us that he wished both the Duke and I dead and has continued to do so multiple times on the journey from Northampton to the Tower and in front of numerous witnesses.” I continued.

“If my brother’s widow wishes to accuse the Duchess or I of overthrowing my nephew, I must insist that she say it to me personally rather than continue to hide in Sanctuary. She has nothing to fear from either of us.”

“Our thanks Your Graces for explaining the events. We have been spreading what we know to counteract the Dowager Queen’s rumours as well as working hard to convince her to remove herself and her children from Sanctuary. Archbishop Rotherham has been leading this.” William Hastings informed us in the stunned aftermath of Richard’s statement.

“Have you made any progress Your Grace?” Richard asked Rotherham. I was wary of him for he had not hidden his dislike of me.

“Unfortunately not Your Grace. The Dowager Queen believes that your wife is plotting to overthrow our king and that you are following her. She has evidence.” Rotherham pointedly refused to look at me.

“The Dowager Queen or yourself Your Grace. As my husband has said, if Her Grace, or anyone else, has accusations for me than I invite them to accuse me to my face rather than hide behind rumours. I assure you that I am not plotting anything against our new king but I cannot say the same for either the king or his mother.” I turned to my left and stared down at Rotherham who was going whiter and whiter before turning red.

“Very well, my lady, you are plotting to overthrow His Grace and replace the line of our late king with yourself and your husband. A Lancastrian coup if you will. Sir Richard and Sir Thomas were impediments to this therefore you concocted an assassination plot to justify your illegal imprisonment of two of His Grace’s main supporters. You disseminated your lies among the Londoners who you knew would support you to enable the imprisonment of His Grace within the Tower of London.” Rotherham had stood and leant over me as he yelled. I stayed seated, staring across the table at Cardinal Bourchier.

“If you are finished Your Grace.” I said calmly, “Then I would ask that you deliver the Great Seal to Lord Hastings and depart this Council.”

“I will not be told what to do by a traitorous woman. You have no right to be sat here among the Councillors but rather you should be with the women keeping out of plots.”

“If you believe that women do not participate in plots then you have obviously forgotten the wars. My aunt Queen Margaret spearheaded the Lancastrian threat before 1470. She was just one among many women who plotted these last years.” I shook my head, unable to believe that Rotherham was that idiotic.

“The Duchess is correct and you will follow her orders. Deliver the Great Seal of England to Lord Hastings who will take over your post. I believe that a visit to your See is in order, do you not agree My Lord of York?” Richard stood and stared Rotherham down.

Rotherham made a shallow bow to Richard, ignoring me completely before storming from the room. Richard gestured to one of the guards to come forward.

“Ensure that My Lord of York reaches York safely and quickly.” Richard said quietly to which the guard bowed and left the room. “Lord Hastings, if you would retrieve the Great Seal when we retire.”

“There is an issue with that.” William Hastings hid a wince, much like Cardinal Bourchier earlier in the meeting.

“As my wife said earlier: ‘Does this issue involve the Dowager Queen’?” Richard asked wryly.

“Indeed it does. The Archbishop gave the Great Seal to the Dowager Queen the day she entered Sanctuary.” William Hastings replied.

“Retrieve it. You are the holder now, not the Dowager Queen. Your Eminence, may I ask that you accompany Lord Hastings and do your best to convince the Dowager Queen to remove herself and her children from Sanctuary?”

Cardinal Bourchier nodded in agreement and rose.

“Come Lord Hastings, may we get this unpleasant task over with.”

This seemed to signal the end of the Council meeting as the other members stood, bowed to Richard and I and started their way out. We sat there in silence for a few moments before Richard banged his hand on the table.

“She has made a mess of this.”

I stood and leant on the chair behind Richard, massaging his good shoulder and pressing a kiss to his hair.

“She has been making a mess of my life since she married my father. It is nothing new. We must just do our best to counteract her plots. And to start we need to get her, or at least her children, out of Sanctuary. That will show that we mean them no harm and silence the naysayers.”

Richard leant his head back and met my eyes.

“Let us hope we both survive this. If they have their way, we will surely die.”

It was this scene that Lady Cecily entered to whereupon she took my vacated seat. We stayed there in silent contemplation of our futures for some time. We must neutralise the Woodville threat or else Richard and I would die.


	16. 13 May 1483

13 May 1483 – Crosby Place, City of London

“No. My brother never mentioned another marriage. He had her crowned and acknowledged her as his wife and their children as legitimate. I will hear no words about the legality of my brother’s marriage.” Richard, in a rare fit of temper, yelled, directing it at Robert Stillington Bishop of Bath and Wells who had suggested that perhaps Edward’s wedding to my stepmother was illegal as Stillington had allegedly married Edward to Lady Eleanor Butler in 1461.

“My late cousin confirmed that there were no impediments to his marriage on the day.” I added. I may not like the Dowager Queen or our new king but Edward’s other children were blameless.

“You would testify this upon the Bible?” Cardinal Bourchier asked sensitively.

“Yes I do. I remember my great-aunt the Dowager Duchess of Bedford standing beside me watching my cousin say his vows without impediments to the Dowager Queen.”

“May we return to the question at hand. Firstly the matter of Sir Richard Grey and Sir Thomas Vaughan and secondly the matter of the Dowager Queen and her children in Sanctuary. Their continued residence is threatening the stability of this realm.” Richard interrupted, diffusing the incoming argument between myself and the members of the Privy Council.

“I spoke with my sister against yesterday and she insists that she will not remove herself or our nephew and nieces from Sanctuary unless you meet her demands: that she is appointed Regent until the king’s majority, her son and Sir Thomas Vaughan are released from their imprisonment, we order the immediate cessation of any acts against my brother Edward and the Royal Fleet, the Duke of Gloucester resigns all positions along with the Duchess and retreats to their estates in the north – minus some estates of course.” Earl Rivers said. Since the journey from Northampton he had firmly been in our camp but was still concerned with the fate of his family members who were not. Hence, he was our go-between with the Dowager Queen after Cardinal Bourchier had been told to leave and never return.

“Is that all?” I said wryly, privately astonished by the Dowager Queen’s list of demands.

“Yes, nothing else at the moment.”

“We cannot release Sir Richard or Sir Thomas until they have been tried.” John Alcock Bishop of Rochester and the Lord Chamberlain said, “If they are found innocent then they will be released. It is not the decision of you, Your Grace, but rather the Council.”

“That is what I explained to her but she is determined that the Lord Protector, or rather the Duchess of Lancaster, is plotting a coup. I have tried to persuade her against this but there is no use. She will not be moved.”

“It is not the decision of the Dowager Queen who is Regent but our right. We will not have a scheming woman as Regent.” The Duke of Buckingham shouted, banging his hand on the table.

“Ah, there goes my plans to become Regent.” I sighed in response, suppressing a smile at the reactions from the Councillors who were not quite sure whether I was serious or not.

“Sir Edward Woodville has absconded with much of the contents of the Treasury and the Royal Fleet. We cannot abide by that treason but must bring him to justice.” Sir John Wood, the Speaker of the House of Commons and new Lord Treasurer, stated.

“I agree Sir John. Sir Edward’s actions have robbed us of any naval power and left us open to invasion from France. This is unacceptable.” Lord Thomas Stanley the new Lord High Admiral added. 

I did not trust Lord Stanley for he had married my cousin Lady Margaret Beaufort Dowager Countess of Richmond, who still disliked me. Her son Henry Tudor Earl of Richmond was in exile in Brittany with his uncle Jasper Tudor Earl of Pembroke. Edward had been considering the idea of allowing their return as Pembroke had acknowledged that I was the Lancastrian heir rather than Richmond but Lady Margaret was still insisting that Richmond was the heir. 

“I will return with you to the Dowager Queen on the morrow and inform her that her demands are refused.” Cardinal Bourchier interjected the incoming argument over what we should do with Sir Edward Woodville.

“Very well Your-“ Richard was cut off by the door opening and Francis slipping inside.

“Forgive me Your Eminence, Your Graces, my lords” Francis bowed lowly and approached Richard and I. He bent down and whispered to us his news.

“You are sure Francis?” Richard asked, glancing around the table.

“There is irrefutable evidence.” Francis affirmed.

“Show it to My Lord Cardinal, My Lord Chancellor, My Lord Privy Seal, and My Lord Chamberlain.” Richard ordered.

Francis bowed and held the door for the Cardinal and three bishops to exit. Richard ordered the servants to bring food and wine while we waited for the churchmen to return. I stood, prompting everyone else to stand and gestured to Richard to join me by the window, waving the others to sit as I did.

“I cannot believe this. Lord Hastings was the one who informed us of your brother’s death. That he would feed information to the Dowager Queen and mislead us…” I trailed off, unable to finish.

Francis had told us that Lord Hastings, Edward’s great friend, had betrayed our Council and plotted with the Dowager Queen. This was a personal betrayal as Richard and I had been Edward’s advisors along with Lord Hastings. We trusted him deeply.

“We do not know if Francis’ evidence is genuine.” Richard soothed me.

“Francis would not lie about a matter as grave as this.”

“Let us wait until the Cardinal and bishops return before we decide anything.”

It was not long before they re-entered, looking grave. I involuntarily let out a gasp. I knew by their expressions it was not good news.

“Your Eminence, Your Graces?” Richard asked tentatively, gripping my wrist.

“Lord Hastings, these men are here to escort you to the Tower.” Cardinal Bourchier said, gesturing to the contingent of armed guards that were waiting just outside the door.

“Why? On what charge?” Hastings spluttered.

“Treason my lord.” John Russell Bishop of Lincoln and the Lord Chancellor pronounced, his usually jovial face grave.

“That is preposterous. I have committed no treason.” Hastings’ hand went for his belt before he realised that he had been obliged to leave his weapons behind.

“We have seen hard evidence of this that proves you are a traitor. You will be held at the Tower until your trial.” Bishop Morton said.

“My lord, please, do not make a scene.” I pleaded, some of my old friendship with Hastings’ not wishing him to be humiliated by being dragged out of Crosby Place.

“I will leave but they will not touch me.” Hastings snarled.

The guards escorted Hastings out. Richard and I watched from the window as Hastings was helped onto his horse and surrounded by guards also on horseback. We stood there, with the other members of the Privy Council looking out the other window, until Hastings had disappeared from view.

“This meeting is adjoined for today. We will reconvene tomorrow.” Richard said as he turned on his heel and stalked out of the chamber.

I hurried after him, calling for our children, who had arrived the previous day, to meet us in the withdrawing chamber. I knew that if Richard – and I to be honest – were not distracted then we would brood about the betrayal from Hastings. We both worried that he would not be the last.


	17. 20 May 1483

20 May 1483 – Crosby Place, City of London

“Mother, Lord Howard is wishing to speak with you and Father.” Dickon came racing into my chamber, disturbing myself along with Georgiana, Jacquetta, Kathy, and Maggie.

“Have you sent for your Father?” I asked, standing and allowing the section of the altar piece I was working on to fall to the ground.

“No my lady.” Dickon, as he now considered himself rather a man, had taken to being far more formal with me than any of my other children – something which caused Harry no end of amusement.

“Well go tell your father then!” I said exasperatedly.

“Yes Mother, sorry Mother.” Dickon shouted as he ran back out of the chamber.

“What would men do without us women?” I asked the girls, smiling at their laughter.

I smoothed my undergown and donned my overgown – with help from Georgiana – before exiting and making my way down to the courtyard where Lord John Howard, a member of the Privy Council and current Earl Marshal, was waiting.

“Lord Howard, Lord Cambridge said you wished to speak with His Grace and I.” I met him at the base of the stairs and gestured for him to follow me inside.

“Your Grace, perhaps we should await His Grace?” Lord Howard stated, accepting some wine from a page with a nod.

I looked at Lord Howard sharply. He was an adherent of Richard’s and knew well that I was more than capable of making decisions without Richard. Whatever the news was, was obviously of utmost importance.

“Lord Howard.” Richard greeted him with a small smile, clasping arms congenially.

“Your Grace.” Lord Howard paused, almost seeming uncomfortable with his news, “London has risen in rebellion against the King. They are calling for his removal over the assassination attempt and that you, Your Graces, be installed in his place.”

I blinked.

“Explain.” Richard said tersely.

“You are no doubt aware that the citizens of London are unhappy with the King. It seems that all placating them has failed. The King issued a statement late this morning offering a reward to the man who kills Your Graces.” Lord Howard took a deep breath, “And your sons along with the Earl of Warwick.”

“He would have my sons killed?!” I exclaimed, hardly able to believe this yet I remembered my late cousin of Lancaster having ordered the execution of prisoners aged only seven.

“I fear so Your Grace. I have a copy of the proclamation here.” Lord Howard held a roll of parchment out to Richard who snatched it and hurriedly read through, paling as he did so.

“How was he allowed to make this?” I demanded.

“I do not know Your Grace. Lord Rivers has set men to investigate but he is not under guard and able to do as he wishes for he is the King.”

“What else?” Richard asked, rolling our death sentence up and passing it to a page.

“They have surrounded the Sanctuary at Westminster Abbey and are besieging the Tower of London. They demand that the Dowager Queen removes herself from Sanctuary and hands her children to your care as well as the deposition of the King.”

“They cannot depose the King, he is my brother’s rightful heir.” Richard exploded in rage.

“If he is deposed and we are placed upon the throne, we would never be safe while he were alive. This is not our death sentence but his.” I added quietly, thinking on my late uncle murdered by my husband and his brothers twelve years ago tomorrow.

“Do not think of him.” Richard ordered.

“How can I not? I have watched one kinsman be murdered for the throne, I will not watch another.”

“You would put us, your children, at risk just to not see our nephew murdered. Is a nephew worth more than a husband and sons?”

“Of course not! How can you say that? How can you say any of this? We cannot just stand back and watch the citizens overthrow a King.” I cried, ignorant to the fact that most of our household and a number of Londoners were watching our argument.

“I say this for the sake of this family. I cannot- will not watch you or any of our children be killed on the orders of a child.”

“A child. He is but a child, younger than Dickon and Harry.”

“I know, but if he is ordering our deaths publicly at this age, what will he do when he is older. You remember the deeds of your cousin of Lancaster.”

I deflated. Richard had just mentioned what I had been thinking ever since the assassination attempt. If young Edward could do this now, what would he become.

“I do not condone this.” I said quietly, “I pray that we could go home to Pontefract and live our lives up there and not in this vipers nest. I pray that our children could be safe and never know the threat of assassination. But it is not to be.”

I turned to Lord Howard who had been stood quietly next to us during our argument.

“Deal with this Lord Marshal. But maintain the dignity of the royal family as you do so.”

Lord Howard bowed deeply and left.

I sunk down onto the closest bench. Georgiana, Jacquetta, Kathy, and Maggie swarmed around me, offering me comfort.

“It is true Father? Does my cousin the king wish us dead?” I could hear Dickon’s voice echoing in the hall.

“I fear so Dickon. I fear so.” Richard murmured, eyes not meeting any of our children.

“What will happen to us?” Georgiana asked from my shoulder.

“Will the Londoners kill us?” Kathy asked.

“No, of course they will not.” Richard attempted to soothe her.

“They will not harm us for they like us. It is your aunt the Dowager Queen and your cousin the King who they wish to harm.” I said, not seeing any reason to keep this from them for they would find out from the servants anyhow.

“If the King dies would Papa be king?” Ned asked.

Neither Richard nor I replied for the answer did not bear thinking about. If the citizens killed the King then, by right, Edward’s other son, Richard Duke of York, should become king and then Teddy but would that happen. Teddy was too young, and a traitor’s son besides, but would the citizens put Richard of York on the throne or would it be Richard of Gloucester. 

We both knew the answer and neither wished to find out.


	18. 26 May 1483

26 May 1483 – Baynard’s Castle, City of London

“Your Graces, you must come quickly!” A messenger burst into the Hall during lunch, startling the assembled household.

We had been on tenterhooks these last six days since we had received the information that the citizens of London had risen in rebellion against young Edward. They had surrounded both the Sanctuary at Westminster Abbey and the Tower of London, yelling for the Dowager Queen to bring her children out to Richard and I. We had been sending messages and members of the Privy Council to negotiate with the rebels, although neither Richard nor I had gone for we feared what would happen if we got near the rebels, but the rebels would not back down. It was not just citizens of London that were rebelling now but people from the surrounding area had also poured into London and were camping at Blackheath. To add to our problems pockets of rebels were sprouting up in Wales, the Midlands, and the North – mainly from our estates who were rising to protest the attempted assassination. 

“What has happened?” Richard asked, standing from his chair.

“The rebels have entered Sanctuary. Princess Elizabeth has brought her siblings out – they are being conveyed here – while they dragged the Queen Dowager out. They are heading for the Tower to assist those already there. It is likely that the Tower will fall today.”

“How can the Tower fall in six days to a group of rebels?” I asked, incredulously.

“The men holding it are sympathetic to the rebels. The King has also been uttering near constant death threats to you, Your Graces, and your children.”

“That child has not learnt to be quiet?” I commented quietly to Richard and Lady Cecily, ensuring the children could not hear.

“Obviously not.” Lady Cecily said tartly, pursing her lips in disapproval.

“Assemble the men, we ride to the Tower as soon as my nieces and nephew arrive. We must stop them.” Richard gestured to some of the knights who were close members of the household and left.

Lady Cecily started snapping orders to the household to prepare chambers for Edward’s children, gathering a trail of stewards in her wake as she strode out of the hall, defying her age – she had celebrated her sixty-eighth birthday on the third of May. I was left with the children on the dais who were looking at me in shock for the idea of the Tower falling to rebels after just six days was unthinkable.

A cacophony of noise from the courtyard broke me from my thoughts. Chanting of ‘God save the Duke and Duchess’ pierced the sound of horses and I knew at once that the rebels had arrived, hopefully with my nieces and nephew.

“Come, we must greet your cousins.” I smoothed my dress out and ushered the children from the hall and into the courtyard.

Despite us calling them rebels, the men who were escorting the Duke of York and the Yorkist Princesses were not dirty or ragged peasants, rather merchants and Aldermen of the City of London, dressed in their finest wools and furs. 

“Your Grace, my lords, my ladies.” They bowed before us as guards assisted Edward’s children off their horses.

“Thank you for delivering Their Graces to us without harm. Now, I am sure that you have tasks you need to oversee elsewhere so I will leave you to those.”

They were rebels and I refused to give them much of my time to allow anyone to say I, and Richard, supported them when we were doing all that we could to disband them and bring this to a peaceful conclusion.

“My Lady Aunt.” Princess Elizabeth greeted us, her youngest sister, two-and-a-half-year-old Bridget, perched on her hip.

“Your Grace.” We curtseyed slightly to my five nieces and one nephew before I straightened up and ushered everyone inside, “Your Uncle Richard, Grandmother York and I am exceedingly happy that you are all safe. I hope that you have not suffered too much this past month.”

“Thank you Aunt Kate. I can speak for my siblings to say that I am glad that we are out of Sanctuary but I do not believe we have suffered for it – past us grieving for our late Lord Father.” Princess Elizabeth replied, attempting to stop her second-youngest sister, the nearly four-year-old Catherine, from running away. She was not quick enough but luckily Dickon was close enough to catch her instead.

“I too miss your father. He gave me a life that I could never imagine and I am forever grateful to him. Richard is distraught as is your Grandmother who has now buried three grown sons.”

“Three Aunt Kate?” Seven-and-a-half-year-old Princess Anne asked.

I pursed my lips, unable to answer for I knew that Edmund Earl of Rutland’s name was rarely mentioned in Yorkist households apart from to emphasis the brutality of Tante la Reine and my Cousin of Lancaster. Edmund was a year younger than Edward but had been killed in December 1460 at the Battle of Wakefield along with his father Richard Duke of York and Warwick’s father Richard Neville Earl of Salisbury (he was the son of Joan Beaufort, the half-sister of my great-grandfather Henry IV, and the brother of Lady Cecily) when he was just seventeen.

“He was father’s younger brother who was killed with our Grandfather of York by the Lancastrian Queen.” Princess Cecily, the second-surviving daughter who was now fourteen, said abruptly.

“I would advise not mentioning Edmund to your Grandmother.” Richard’s voice came from the doorway. “Kate, if you wish to come with us I would advise being ready.”

I nodded and left the children in the care of Richard. I suppose I should not call Princess Elizabeth a child for when I was her age I was already a mother.

I hurriedly changed into a richer gown that I could ride in and rushed back down to the hall where Richard had been joined by Lady Cecily. I could hear shouts and activity from the courtyard of the soldiers readying themselves to march. Richard looked up as I entered.

“Ah, forgive me Mother but I must go now.” Richard said, placing a kiss to Lady Cecily’s cheek and extracting himself from the children.

“You will come back to me.” Lady Cecily grasped his hand.

“Of course we will Lady Mother.” I said, taking her other hand, “We will be protected by our men. No harm will come to us.”

We took our leave and rode out surrounded by near fifty men, leaving both our children and Edward’s children with Lady Cecily standing on the steps, the Duke of York swaying slightly. The streets of London were near deserted and we made good time. As we approached the Tower, the streets became crowded and noisy. There must have been thousands of people surrounding the Tower and blocking the streets on the approach. We forced our way through the crowd, most of whom moved out of the way as we were sighted.

We were still a street out when a great cry went through the crowd. 

“What has happened?” I yelled to one of the knights over the noise of the masses.

“The Tower has fallen.” He cried.

Richard kicked his horse and we followed, rushing towards the Tower as fast as we possibly could. It was only a few minutes before we entered the Tower and yet we were too late.

“Let me go! Get your hands off me!” It was Lord Hastings, struggling against the grasps of two of the rebels.

The rebels forced him to kneel on a spare log from the rebuilding of St Peter ad Vincula on Tower Green and a man who looked like a butcher raised his axe. Two blows later Lord Hastings head was not attached to his body and a mass cheer went up through the crowd. Chants of ‘death to all traitors’ echoed through the Tower.

“What have you done?” I cried, dismounting and kneeling beside Lord Hastings’ body, making the sign of the cross over his body, praying that he would not spend too long in Purgatory for I doubt that he was given time to make a Confession and given Last Rites.

“Stand down and leave this place.” Richard shouted, circling on his horse behind me.

Our men spread out and forced the crowd back a few steps in an attempt to gain control back. Unsurprisingly it did not completely work as we did not have enough men to overcome the masses.

“STAND DOWN!” Richard shouted again, being ignored once more for the masses were too riled up to listen to him.

A commotion from the White Tower interrupted Richard’s attempts to remove the crowd. Five Aldermen were moving young Edward down the stairs and onto the, now cleared, Tower Green. 

“I am the King of England and you will release me!” Young Edward was demanding, trying to wrench his arms from the grip of the Aldermen. Considering the fact that young Edward is only twelve-and-a-half-years-old and he was against men in their forties and fifties, he was not able to remove himself.

“How dare you lay hands upon the King!” I said as I rose from the ground. I was scandalised at how far the rebels were going.

“We cannot do that Your Grace.” One apologised, bowing his head.

“What do you mean that you are unable to release His Grace the King. You will release him immediately and disperse without delay.” Richard was sitting atop his horse, sword in hand and the most severe expression on his face.

“We do not accept Prince Edward as our King. He has proved himself a tyrant through his actions towards yourself, your wife, and your children.” Another Alderman replied.

“He is our King, upon the coronation he will be ordained by God, it is his right to be our King as the eldest son of my late brother.” Richard said.

“You have no ability to decide who is the King.” I added.

“We have the boy calling himself the king, Your Grace. I do believe that we are able to do what we wish.” The third Alderman put in.

“Did you not hear my Lord Husband the Duke and Lord Protector tell you to release him?” I demanded, enraged that these men presumed so much to ignore Richard’s direct orders.

“We cannot release him Your Grace. Not until he agrees to resign the throne to His Grace the Duke.” The first Alderman said gravely.

“A king cannot resign his-“ Richard was indignant but cut himself off before he finished. We all knew well that a king could resign his throne, after all that is how my family came to the throne and the ultimate reason why the bloody civil war had started. Richard’s family was not much better, what with overthrowing and, later on, murdering my uncle the King.

We exchanged looks. There was nothing, other than force, that we could do to stop this happening. Even then, there were too few of us to overpower the mob. If we tried to interfere the mob could very easily turn against us and then Dickon would be king. 

“I will not resign my throne. It is mine as it was my fathers before me.” Young Edward piped up, his high voice clear and carrying through the Tower.

“And it was Her Grace the Duchess’s uncle before.” A fourth Alderman added tartly, I recognised him as one of my uncle’s ardent supporters.

“I said I will not resign my throne. There is no reason for me to change it.” Young Edward repeated.

“If you wish your mother to live then I believe that you will.” The first one added.

“The Dowager Queen is in Sanctuary.” I said, hopeful beyond all hope that she still was in Sanctuary, that we had been misinformed about the masses dragging her out. I did not like her but I would never wish for her to see her beloved son like this.

“No Your Grace. The Dowager Queen is here.” He said and a group of men pushed their way to the front of the crowd, the Dowager Queen with them.

I gasped for I had never seen her so bedraggled in all the years I had known her. She had obviously not had her ladies assisting with her face, hair, and dress. Indeed, the gown she had on was an older one with the hem muddied and torn. Her face was gaunt and white, staring in terror at her son.

“Mother!” Young Edward near screamed.

“Well? Your answer?” The Alderman asked again.

I do not quite know what happened next for it happened in a blur. One second young Edward was looking frantically between the Aldermen and the Dowager Queen, the next he had gone for the fifth Alderman’s dagger, the last he was crumpled on the floor covered in blood coming from a wound over his breast. 

A scream echoed around the Tower. I realised that I came from me – and that I was crumpled on the ground once more, Lord Hastings’ blood seeping into my gown and covering my hands. The Dowager Queen was slumped silently on the ground, being assisted by some of our guards. Richard, ashen faced, was taking the five Aldermen prisoner. They were marched off to one of the less pleasant Tower rooms. Richard was now directing more men to remove young Edward’s body, now covered with his cloak, to the Chapel of St Peter ad Vincula.

“Come Your Grace.” Richard was now by the Dowager Queen, dismissing the men assisting her and taking her arm to manoeuvre her over to myself. We stood there, gripping each other in our grief as Richard and our men dispersed the mob, after more arrests of the more active members, and arranged for our return to Baynard’s Castle.

We arrived at Baynard’s to an empty courtyard. Exchanging glances, Richard and I dismounted and rushed up the stairs where we were greeted by a solemn Georgiana.

“What has happened?” I asked quietly, dreading her words for I did not know if I could take more sorrow today.

“It is my cousin, the young Duke of York.” Georgiana trailed off.

“NO!” The Dowager Queen screeched, collapsing to the floor once more. Georgiana looked at me in askance to which I shook my head. I would tell her, and the others, later when I had processed it more.

“He took a chill in Sanctuary and…” Georgiana did not need to finish. 

One of my ladies came forward and took the Dowager Queen off leaving Richard, Georgiana and I alone.

“The King is dead. Long live the King.” I muttered.

“Cousin Edward…” 

I nodded.

“With Cousin Richard gone…”

“Teddy is the rightful king.” Richard said quietly, staring off into space.

“You know as well as I that Teddy is alike to my uncle. England cannot survive another mad king.” I said just as quietly, gripping Richard’s hand.

“I-I cannot think of that. I- The throne is Edward’s and his sons, not- not- not mine and ours.” Richard broke down into sobs.

I waved Georgiana off for she would be no help and hugged Richard to me. Richard had seen so much in his thirty-and-a-half-years and I wished for him to be spared these. But I could not, nor could I spare myself.

“Long live the Queen.” Richard muttered in my ear.


	19. 22 June 1483

22 June 1483 – Westminster Abbey, City of Westminster

The trumpets blared as Richard and I, side-by-side, processed down the nave of Westminster Abbey on what should have been young Edward’s coronation day. We should have been walking just behind him as the Lord Protector and closest adult male relation and his wife.

It was instead our coronation. Richard the Third of His Name by the Grace of God King of England and France and Lord of Ireland, and Katherine by the Grace of God Queen of England and France and Lady of Ireland.

Behind us were our children – Dickon Earl of Cambridge and now Prince of Wales, Duke of Cornwall and Earl of Chester, Harry Earl of Derby, Georgiana, Jacquetta, Ned, Kathy, Cecily, and John – all titled Prince or Princess now. Following them was the black-clad figure of the Dowager Queen, still with a gaunt and withdrawn face. We had reached an agreement with her for even she could not deny that we had tried to stop the events of that day. She would retire, with Earl Rivers and my other half-brother Thomas Grey Marquess of Dorset (my youngest half-brother Sir Richard, and Sir Thomas Vaughan had been executed at Sheriff Hutton on the orders of the Privy Council on the twenty-fifth of May), to Grafton. Lady Cecily walked next to her, age seeming to have caught up with her. The Dowager Queen and Edward’s remaining children followed – reduced from the ten babes she had born to five girls – clad, like their mother, in black. Maggie and Teddy brought up the rear of the royal party.

The procession hurried back to Westminster Hall as fast as was dignified. There were not many cheering us for the citizens of London and the rest of the country who had risen in those six days, were reeling from the punishments we had metted out. Many Aldermen and merchants were imprisoned along with a good number of ordinary citizens who had led the rebellion in London. All those who had rebelled were fined, regardless of their status. It was calm now but I did not wish to think of the future.

We left the feast as soon as was polite, much to the relief of the Dowager Queen who left for the Chapel almost as soon as we had stood. With our children we retired to our chambers to sit there in peace – or at least as much peace as we could have with the children.

“Mama, Ned ripped my gown.” Kathy cried, showing me the tear to her sleeve.

“Did not!” Ned shouted, stamping his feet.

“Yes you did!” Kathy volleyed back.

Richard let out a small laugh, the first in almost a month.

“Some things never change do they?” He said as he separated the two and sent them to bed.

“No, some things will never change.” I agreed, standing up and kissing him on the cheek, surveying the crowded room of loud children we had raised. “And those are the things we cherish in this world.”

I thought of my uncle then and smiled slightly, I had played in these very rooms as a child as my uncle watched and now I would watch my children play here. Neither of us could have imagined it but in that moment, despite all the heartbreak and travails Richard and I had gone through, it felt right.

I was a Lancaster, my husband was a York but together our children were Gloucester. The family was united once more.


	20. Epilogue

Queen Katherine of England, formally Katherine Duchess of Gloucester and Lancaster and Countess of Monmouth, died in her bed on 9 September 1520 at the age of sixty-eight. King Richard III of England, formally Richard Duke of Gloucester, followed her after a short illness on 17 December 1520, also at the age of sixty-eight. They had reigned, more or less peacefully, over England for thirty seven years.

Richard Prince of Wales, formally Richard Earl of Cambridge, known as Dickon, died at the Battle of Stoke Field on 16 June 1497, three days before his twenty-eighth birthday, fighting the forces of John de Vere Earl of Oxford (a Lancastrian adherent who refused to acknowledge Queen Katherine as the Lancastrian heir). He had married in April 1490 Anne Duchess of Brittany and had one son (Prince Richard of Wales, later Richard IV) and a daughter Princess Katherine. Anne Duchess of Brittany married King Louis XII of France in 1499.

Henry Duke of Lancaster, formally Henry Earl of Derby, known as Harry, died of the same illness as his father on 2 January 1521 at the age of fifty. He had married in October 1498 Elizabeth Howard daughter of John Howard Duke of Norfolk and had three children – Mary, Anne and Henry.

Georgiana Holy Roman Empress died on 18 May 1507 at the age of thirty-five in childbirth. She married in September 1488 Maximillian I Holy Roman Emperor and had eight children – Maximillian, Frederick, Catherine, Jacquetta, Richard, and three stillborn’s.

Jacquetta Queen of Scotland died on 18 October 1541 at the age of sixty-eight. She married in August 1493 King James IV of Scotland and had six children – James, Jacquetta, James, James, Alexander, and a stillborn daughter (all but Jacquetta and the last James died as infants).

Prince Edward, known as Ned, died at the Battle of Stoke Field on 16 June 1497 after falling from his horse at the age of twenty-one. He had not married but left a bastard daughter – Margaret.

Katherine Countess of Northumberland, known as Kathy, died 21 March 1532 at the age of fifty-five. She married in June 1500 Henry Percy Earl of Northumberland and had five children – Henry, Richard, Thomas, Katherine, and Maud.

Princess Cecily became a nun at Barking in 1497 after the deaths of her elder brothers. She died on 11 November 1503 at the age of twenty-four.

John Earl of Monmouth and Salisbury, died on 7 February 1535 at the age of fifty-four. He had married in July 1500 Anne Lovell Countess of Salisbury, daughter of Francis Lovell and Anne Neville, and had seven children – Anne, Katherine, John, Richard, Francis, Edward and Isobel.

Elizabeth Dowager Queen of England died on 8 June 1492 at the age of fifty-five as a nun at Bermondsey. 

Elizabeth Countess of Richmond, formally Princess Elizabeth of York, died on 11 February 1503 in childbirth. She had married Henry Tudor Earl of Richmond upon his return to England from exile in Brittany in January 1486, and had seven children – Jasper, Margaret, Henry, Elizabeth, Mary, Edmund, and Katherine but only Margaret, Henry and Mary survived to adulthood.

Cecily, Anne and Catherine all married and had children. Bridget became a nun at Barking with Princess Cecily of Gloucester.

Edward Earl of Warwick, known as Teddy, died mad on 28 November 1499 at the age of twenty-four. He never married or had children.

Margaret of Clarence became a nun at Barking with Princess Cecily and Bridget. She died on 27 May 1541 at the age of sixty-seven.

After the death of King Richard III, his grandson Prince Richard of Wales (only son of the late Dickon) became King Richard IV. He married his cousin Catherine of Austria (eldest daughter of Georgiana) and had two sons (Richard Prince of Wales, and Henry (later Henry VII)). After Richard IV’s death in 1547, his sole surviving son became King Henry VII. King Henry VII married Madeleine of France and had one son with her before her death in 1537 – Henry Prince of Wales who, in 1558 married Mary Queen of Scotland (daughter of King James V and granddaughter of Jacquetta). King Henry VII died in 1558 and King Henry VIII in 1603. 

King Henry VIII’s son, who had been King James VI of Scotland since the death of Mary Queen of Scots in 1587, became King James I of England in 1603. The rest is our history.


End file.
